The story line of Simba.

My favorite of the eight reminders I etched on my arms before competing in a Hyrox competition. Partially because the line is lifted from one of my favorite songs by my favorite artist (Kingdom Come by Jon Bellion). Partially because of the thread of thought it inspires.

It starts with a visit from Nietzsche: “if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you” he says as he nods to the reel rolling on my imagination’s screen: Lion King.

Specifically, the scene where Rafiki (who represents the Self, or soul) leads Simba through a dark and tangled forest to a deep pool. There, Simba peers in. “It’s just my reflection,” Simba says, saddened by what looks back. But Rafiki presses: “Look. Harder.”

As Simba turns his attention back to the abyss, slowly, Mufasa’s reflection forms. Nietzsche’s abyss, gazing back, showing Simba the king he might be. “Look inside yourself, Simba,” Mufasa thunders, his figure now in the clouds above. “You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the circle of life.”

In that moment, the sleeping king – the one Simba had, to date, buried in the land of problem-free philosophies – was shaken from its slumber. Placed in presence of the timeless, and faced with the divine potential within, Simba flips the switch. No longer could he live the fugitive life, running from the world’s problems. It was time to starting showing up.

And as Simba stepped into himself, so too must we answer the soul’s summons to show up as best we can, against our desire to run.

Yet it’s easy to drown out the cries of our Self. Life offers no shortage of ways to anesthetize or distract ourselves. But we do so at our peril. Because our restless souls will always know. We catch glimpses of its SOS messages that we are all-too quick to dismiss. We feel our soul shuffling beneath the surface like a ghoul in the grave.  

Just think of how long the things avoided – a delayed confrontation, a neglected gift, or whatever else claws at the corners of your conscience – have tortured you. Each avoidance driving a wedge between who we are and who we might be, allowing the shadow of the unlived life to swell and swallow your light (see below).

But what if you commit to closing the gap, one act of courage at a time? Slowly, you are shaped, ever-so-slightly, into who you might be. Each act of courage closes the gap and molds you into the form of who you might be.

Which is why I ask: Remember who you are. Remember you were made for more. And keep working on your roar.

Look down. Look up. And rise, royalty.

Spare no light.

Video (Mufasa’s Ghost):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqQ2mQV5b0w&feature=emb_imp_woyt

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Per aspera ad astra.

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It waits where you won’t look.