Finding Your Own Way — Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Zarathustra describes himself as too rough for polite rabbits and too wild for careful writers. His feet race like a horse, his stomach wants eagle food, and his whole nature longs to fly. He is deeply hostile to the spirit of gravity, the force that makes life feel heavy, solemn, and stuck. He will sing of that hostility even alone in an empty house, because other singers need a full crowd to feel alive and he does not.

From childhood we are loaded with heavy words about good and evil. Strong people especially carry extra moral baggage until life feels like a desert. Many hide their real selves behind shells. People dodge hard self-knowledge by calling their busy meddling brotherly love. Zarathustra says learning to love yourself with a healthy love is the finest and slowest art, harder than any quick commandment for today or tomorrow.

He tried many roads and tested them himself instead of asking for directions. He learned standing, walking, running, climbing, and dancing before anyone can fly. When people ask him for the way, he answers: This is now my way, where is yours? There is no single path for everyone. Each person must find a path that fits, with neither shame nor secrecy about their own taste.