Ah, the wonder of destruction. Seeing your enemies towers come crashing down.
Destruction gets a bad rap. Destruction can be a most benificial tool.
While destruction can be a real detriment to an established order, the chaos has a tenancy to allow growth and rebirth from the ashes.
Think of the Phoenix, destruction must occur to allow the new life to rise.
In boot camp, a trainee is broken down and rebuilt into a fighting soldier, ready for battle.
In the occult, your systems of belief are torn asunder to allow for a new way of thought.
In relationships, typically, a relationship must be destroyed in order to allow a new relationship to take root and grow.
This is the path of Abaddon. Though he is not the hulking monster he has been defined as. He is caring, and, dare I say, compassionate. His path is to decimate the obstacles in your way, sometimes in ways that would seem detrimental at face value.
As I type this, I get the feeling that he does his work with pride, similar to a farmer tilling new ground.
Yes, the grass is ripped free, and the soil is penetrated by metal tools, the homes of moles and gophers are annihilated and the upheaval can seem as pure chaos to the small creatures below. But the farmer sees the ground break as needed to allow him to plant crops, to grow food, and to feed his family and community.
Life cannot be sustained by allowing stillness to fester. Stillness must be broken, silence must give way to music, established order must be demolished so that glorious anarchy may allow people to rule themselves.
Life itself must end, and allow the spirit to return in a new body. Life is not about stillness, silence, or eternal order, life itself is chaos, and through chaos we find rebirth.
The path of destruction seems harsh, and it is. But do not gaze too long at the destroyed bricks and ruined towers. Instead, look at the possiblities that are opened, and allow destruction to show a bountiful ground of new possibility.
