Giant

Anyone can put something away, a book, a coffee cup, a bicycle. Anyone can pick up their bag, then groaning out the magic word: Heavy. Then puts it back down. Stops. Touches his waist. Looks up to the sky but sees only clouds without compassion. This is an average person. You know who we are talking about. Somebody whose heart is cramped by fear when he watches you. Brutal beast – he thinks. And he stands trembling when you go by. This is familiar. The streets are full of such people. They choose this way.

You were born for something else, you bore the commands in your genes. Then you held the iron and started to lift. This is the only thing that interested you. The end result, the symmetry doesn’t matter at all, only the strength. You grew like a beast. Like a monstrous beast deep inside the jungle. You are not a beauty. You don’t care. Your beauty is your strength. Your strength is your power. This is your truth. This is your world. Slowly you outgrew the gym. When there was no other disc to put on the barbell and there was no more weight to put on your shoulder. When you felt that you could take on the world and you were looking for newer, more noble challenges.

You stepped out among the real objects. Among things that you can grab. A rock. Scratchy. Hard. Huge. Raw. Brutal. Exactly like you. You start, you slowly lift it and your bones crackle. Your joints creak like branches of trees in the wind. You are one with the ground, one with the raw, unstoppable strength. Pure muscle, bone and stony will. Your cells are depleted, and pump their last reserve to the lifting. An ancient scream comes out of your throat. A mountain moving, the scream of a lion, the scream of triumph, of victory. And slowly, stretching your skin you lift up the stone to your face, then higher.

You are one with the uncontrollable power of nature. You are living in this moment. When you lift. Out of space and time. You don’t have any limits. You don’t have any barriers. You are free. Lord of unlimited power.