What Is Your Intention?

On true motives

The moth don’t care when he sees the flame
He might get burned, but he’s in the game
And once he’s in, he can’t go back
He’ll beat his wings till he burns them black

The moth don’t care if the flame is real
‘Cause flame and moth got a sweetheart deal
And nothing fuels a good flirtation
Like need and anger and desperation

No, the moth don’t care if the flame is real

The Moth & The Flame – Les Deux Love Orchestra

What is your intention?

Is it to become inspired to go on a journey of your own?

To truly become that which is your obsession?

Or is it to nod your head in agreement?

To feed the garburator that is your mind?

To revere and put on a pedestal?

To give yourself yet another clever excuse as to why you can’t do it?

What is your intention?

Is it to tread your own path?

To live your own legend?

To become a living, breathing master of craft and life?

Or is it to join another group?

The one that seems to have it all figured out?

To pull up a seat around the campfire?

To hold hands and sing songs?

What is your intention?

Is it to satisfy your incessant mind’s desire to be “productive” and do the “right thing”?

Is it to feel the feeling you hope awaits you in the “promised land”?

Or is it to learn the intricacies of that which you swear is your devotion?

What is your intention behind this devotion?

Is it to look fondly in the eyes of another?

Is it because you think this new identity is more superior than the last?

Is it forceful and effortful or do you truly live there?

What is your intention?

Is it to “get it done” because you feel the pressure to do so?

Because you fear what will happen if you don’t?

So that your mind and the minds of others will pat you on the back?

Or is it done because you have no choice?

Because it’s like oxygen to you?

To actually get somewhere?

Who, and what, are you really doing this for?

Perhaps doing it for anyone and anything, including “yourself”, is the problem.

Because even if your true intention is to get somewhere, is it really worth sacrificing the here and now?

Perhaps it’s not even a question of worth.

Perhaps the question is: is it sustainable if you’re not engaged in and satisfied by the act itself?

Do you really think you’ll get there by dragging your feet?

Even if it might take years on end to arrive?

Could it be that you’re content with talking endlessly about it, rather than owning it?

Which appeals to you more?

Who are you, really?

And what do you find yourself doing, really?

Do these things coincide with each other?

Where do your insincerities lie?

How are you lying to yourself?

What is this really about?

What is your intention?