For over half a decade, I have worked hard to secure a career in journalism.

After years of pursuit, I realized that I was following a path paved by a hidden trauma.

It was footage of warfare from half a world away that politicized me, and it was that politicization that led me to journalism. The details of that terrible war are unimportant for now. But what I saw in that video — people wailing to God in anguish as hellfire was rained upon them, and blood-soaked bodies strewn in the streets — sparked a lasting fire in me.

Strangely enough, I believe that video — those terrible images — traumatized me… due both to its content and to the context in which I viewed it. It was in the name of that then-misunderstood drive that I launched on my quest to save the world.

There’s nothing unusual about that. How many young people have been, and continue to be, drawn towards such crusades? It’s an experience as old as history, at least.

My application for a degree in journalism and political science was the first step in that hopeless hero’s journey.

The time I spent in the journalistic realm was vital. It led me down many fascinating roads, and gave me experiences I will never forget or regret. It gave me many meaningful moments, and allowed me to help people in ways I never thought I would.

But, it also led me deep into the vile vortex of derangement called politics. I entered that world so sure of what was right, and now I leave it totally dazed and confused.

The problem, as far as I can tell, is that nearly everyone is right and wrong about something. The degrees of that rightness and wrongness vary from person to person — from belief system to belief system — but I’m quite confident that no one has all the answers, and they certainly don’t have all the solutions. The world is simply too complex and multi-faceted for any one belief system to get it all right. And the problems that can arise when using power to apply a flawed system on the world can be catastrophic, as history attests to again and again.

So, I’ve abandoned my ideological pursuits for systemic perfection, and now hold only one, solid political belief, which can be summed up in the old, latin phrase: Sic Semper Tyrannis — Thus Always to Tyrants.

To be clear… I’m not saying that everyone is always wrong and foolish in the political world. Of course, there are many fair and decent ideals out there, and many sound, interesting analyses to be made of the world. Many wise, knowledgeable, and well-intentioned people strive to, and sometimes succeed in, making the world a better place.

Who knows… maybe one day my fire will be rekindled. But for now, at least in terms of my own experience, it seems that political activity is a futile effort… it’s an endless game that comes, all-too-often, with hatred, resentment, anger, and confusion.

If you’re out there making real strides towards a more just and harmonious world, then God speed to you. But my own disillusionment remains — and it isn’t new. It had already taken hold about a year before graduating.

But, as things go, only weeks before officially leaving the confines of the classroom, I found a job posting for a small city newspaper. Not knowing what else to do, I applied. And, lo and behold, all the work I’d done throughout my degree paid off — I got the job, and fast.

So, I finished up my final courses, leased a car, and within weeks, hit the road to begin my long-awaited career.

The year of my life spent working as a professional journalist was perhaps the most significant I’ve ever had, for so many reasons that I can hardly begin to describe here… reasons that stretch far beyond the newsroom.

But it’s significance, unfortunately, was negative. It broke me down entirely, and left me without a coherent core.

My only true solace during that dark journey was nature, and, ultimately, beauty.

As a manifestation of that realization, I wrote this poem early one working morning, as I despaired at the day and the many months of pain ahead… it was inspired by some delicious classical music I was listening to on my headphones:

Beauty bears the burden weighing woefully upon my heart.

The padded boat which carries me down life’s long looming river,

Is made of God’s great song, and never truly quiets.

Ever ready to be heard is the sound that soaks the soul,

Guarding me forever from Earth’s ferocious flame.

Music was my greatest comfort on those hopeless mornings.

On weekends, I spent much of my time wandering through the abundant forestlands in the area, bathing in the beauty of the world. I quickly became fascinating by all the little growing things, sprouting from the earth.

I realized that nature and beauty — that God — is something I would love for the rest my life… that it is the truest and most enduring love of my heart.

Politics, on the other hand, fell out of my good graces. I began to resent it — to hate it, even. For so many years, I had drank from its ever-spouting fountain. Little did I know, it was poisoning me.

In stepping towards a lifestyle more closely connected with nature, I am attempting to ween myself off that addictive fountain of anger, resentment and hatred.

I am choosing instead to follow the path of my heart’s highest love.

It is for the sake of that love that I move forward.