What does madness look like exactly? Does it have a shape, a body, extensions, labels? Is it a state of mind or a state of being? Or, is it merely ones perception of what they assess to be madness? What happens when much of the world appears to be in a state of madness, a sort of chaos that resembles the last known crazy person we wish we’d never met?
Do we peel it down to its core, carve it out, explore it, analyze it, then push it to the side hoping it goes away? Does that make us feel more comfortable with its existence? Do we disregard it, live with it, or run from it? Can we sit in a room with it, simply observing the dynamics of its inner-workings? Can we coexist with it? Is that what drives the fear – the fact that most feel they cannot survive with the existence of madness nearby? Perhaps.
What if just for a moment you were to see yourself sitting in a chair in the middle of a room, surrounded by madness? Can you change your perception? Can you redistribute it rather than absorbing it? Can you reshape it and alter it? Or is the only thought to get up and run as fast as you can? But what is madness to you? Is it someone heckling in your face like a crazy person? Is it someone screaming absurdities that make no sense to you? Or is it someone who appears to have a dark soul and exclaims they wish to do horrible things? What does madness look like to you?
Can you see beyond it? Can you go within? Can you see all the beauty that fills in all the cracks, the crevices, and tries to present itself to you in endless forms? Are you still able to see that beauty? Does it still touch your soul? When you smell that crisp morning dew, observe that caterpillar working its way across your path, hear a giggle from a child, or witness a stranger smiling at you – do you take it all in?
Can you reshape the madness?