There was once a shapeless form. The shapeless form starts walking the curvy road of life and as it’s walking, it starts to get molded. It had a goal in mind that it wanted to achieve. As it walked by, the Forging anchors tried to make it into a shape it didn’t want for itself. It was very hard, though, to show resistance as there were forging anchors everywhere it looked. Each attempt to duck from the hammer swings just put it right there within reach of another one. Leading to a couple of molding strokes to its now not so shapeless body. The more it tried to escape, the more it wasted time. So, it decided to stop. Realizing that now it had acquired a form that it had never visualized for itself, it just couldn’t understand the storm of feelings that it was feeling. Discontent, disappointment, anger, fear, feeling lost As it stood there, the anchors gathered around it and proceeded to try to shape it to the “Ideal" format. At that moment of non-stop hammer strokes, it just let go of the hope of ever getting to the shape it had envisioned for itself. It thought about how much easier it would be to just accept the shape the anchors were trying to give it. It also remembered that the “ideal" shape they were trying to mold it into would for sure fit somewhere, after all, it was a mold. It closed its eyes for a moment while it tried to digest the idea of having to accept something that was being imposed. Even if it “made sense” to accept this shape and to know that it would be accepted somewhere, the shape couldn’t stop thinking about what it had envisioned for itself. It was a fire that came from the inside and hurt when it burned. It hurt because it came from a dream. It was the fire of being, that just couldn’t bear the stroke of the hammers. At this very moment, the shape had an epiphany. The anchors had also been molded themselves and they had accepted it. They were not to blame for the fact that they try to mold shapes into the “ideal" form because it's all that they know and something different would threaten their existence. A sudden change in perspective. The anchors didn’t seem so oppressing and scary anymore, all of a sudden, the shape started seeing them as tired and worn-out tools, rusty due to the time exposure, robotic, and insecure as if they didn’t even believe 100% in what they were doing. Hammer strokes lost all strength, the shape understood that the anchors were projecting something that had been imposed to them, and, from that moment on, the fire inside the shape expanded greatly. The clarity of this conclusion provided a feeling that annulled all the others: FREEDOM. The shape understood that, despite the fact that it wasn’t where it wanted to be OR that it still hadn’t achieved the shape it wanted it was just a matter of time and that definitive molds didn’t exist, we could take the molds that we’ve been given and use them to get where we want to be. It reopened its eyes, the anchors stopped mid-stroke all scared of the bright light that came from the eyes of the shape. Such an intensely bright light expanded and eventually exploded and became a shining bubble surrounding the shape. It was right then and there that the shape understood, in a glorifying and liberating moment, what it was like to have hope again.
