Every Day is a Fresh Start

This week I felt like I’ve reached all the possible limits of holding it together. I’ve been saying all the wrong things to people, which provoked the long-forgotten lack of confidence and a strong desire to crawl to a secret cave where no one will witness my failures. It caused a lot of self-disgust too. My stronger self literally had to pull the loser in me from the dark bottom and persuade that it’s not my fault and I’m only an imperfect human being, just like everyone around me.

Time has acted funny too, it’s been slipping through my fingers as if hours suddenly became seconds. I got nothing done. I rushed through things and postponed catching my breath till later. But this later never comes and it’s been months. I just want to pause and do some serious thinking, which will clear my head. But once I stop for just a second, I am attacked by such extreme laziness mixed with depression that I hurry to get back on the move. So it’s either keeping myself chaotically busy or falling prey to dark thoughts.

My kid told me that I inspire him with my words. It almost caused me to break down in tears. I sure don’t inspire myself anymore. And since I don’t have anyone else to do the job, I have to be my own motivator and it’s another big responsibility on the list, which I already struggle to keep up with. I’ve felt so so down because of my inability to express myself, to talk to people in a meaningful way, to feel good about the way I look, think and speak. I've been feeling the strain in my facial muscles because I was so focused on not losing my composure.

The words are failing me, the world is failing me, I’m failing myself. But the thing is if I turn my back on myself there’s no one left. Which will mean free falling. So I have to be gentle, loving, forgiving and supportive. So I forgive myself for all the mishappenings of the week, for withstanding this profound sadness that almost swallowed me whole. I still love myself and tell myself I was made this way for a reason. And if I really look deep inside, I will see that I am a bottomless well of light. This volatile reality almost made me lose it for a while by imposing its crumbling walls, but there’s one true reality above it all and its name is love.

Autumn Blur

It makes me sad to realize that more and more often joy leaks out of my eyes leaving hollow space. Over-worked, ever-busy woman that needs to squeeze an unimaginable amount of to-do volume into each given week to feel good about herself. I am afraid to seize the regular flapping motion because then I am in the power of a stream. By checking things off my list, I can maintain the illusion that it's me who is in control.

But being busy can be such a bliss, it helps you ignore the screaming gaps in your happiness. Occasionally these moments of realization and acknowledgment hit me hard as if knocking all breath out of my lungs. Some things are so pathetic you want to laugh out loud if only it was not you they were happening to. The same wall I always hit because somehow I always manage to forget it's there. And I have to turn around and go back to being humble. Because if nothing has changed in that many years maybe the wall is my life-long "award".

It's green light elsewhere, but for some reason this particular road is closed to me. There are endless opportunities to explore in numerous other directions, yet deep power, painful longing brings me back to the same spot, every time with various amounts of hope.

Have I done enough? Have I earned the right to cross over? Will the light ever turn to green for me?

Random

There are thin invisible layers in our life. Living within. Reading signs. Interpreting coincidences. Knowing without proper understanding how you know…

I tend to overwhelm myself with these mysterious elusive layers, incorporating them into my daily reality as very legitimate components. Thinking thoughts I should not be thinking, persuading myself that as long as they are just thoughts, which would never leave the premises of my head, no harm is done to anyone. But do those secret thoughts really stay secret? You lose control over yourself for half a second and they come streaming out of your eyes, or as this big warmth radiating from your whole body.

If I put a restraint on myself I feel dead. A dried-up well. If I cut myself loose, I do lots of damage. I promise slip-ups won’t happen again. Yet they do. Because most of it is unintentional. Or sub-conscious, which is the same thing.

As I manage to get a tight grip on my way of thinking and acting, as I correct my ways to being 100% proper, I suddenly feel the attack of such an immense feeling of boredom that for a moment I fear I will never be able to breathe. So I let myself have these little moments of excitement, this genuine joy that I disguise as something situation-appropriate. I indulge in just the right portion of inappropriate thinking, like a former chain-smoker indulging in one cigarette at the end of the day. The hard part is to maintain the smallness, to contain it before it grows out of proportion. When it concerns other people, their thoughts and actions count too. So as long as you can tell yourself I wasn’t the one to cross this line first…

Living with this load of reality, desires, principles and random acts that don’t match, don’t exist in the same plateau, is like trying to make a picture using pieces from different puzzles. There will always be parts that don’t belong here, that disrupt your perception of a picture, that capture all your attention by the way they stand out.

I mostly know what doing the right thing is, but how about feeling the right thing? What are the rules there? Do we even have control of how we feel? Because if not, then the guilt is not justified and can be “set free” as an atavism. I’m just tired of censoring my feelings, the way I am just because it’s in conflict with my lifetime principles. I want to feel what I feel. And sometimes I want to act upon it.

Why I Couldn't See

It surprises me to snap out of my acceptance when I least expect it. And I’ve been accepting a lot lately. So be it, it is what it is, these are the cards I’ve been dealt. And then out of the blue comes the crushing thought – I can no longer put up with it. Acceptance provides comfort but also drugs you into oblivion: there was something I aspired for, some kind of aim and purpose; if only I could shake up my mind, dust if off, I would certainly recall what the ultimate purpose was. I’m afraid to forget. I let circumstances shape me into something I wouldn’t expect I would turn to. I should be able to rise above and stay true to myself. Evolve – yes, but not dissolve into this nebula of human activity.

I begin to realize that every post here is a shout-out to my true self, like when you rummage in the dark looking for something and feel so much relief when your hand finally reaches for it, so you know it’s still there, waiting to be pulled back to light. Why do I complain every day? You can either change the circumstances that fail to satisfy you or do the best of your current situation. It’s important to stay up-beat no matter how forced it is. Else you will lose yourself to the grudge virus and nothing will ever be good enough. But I forget to program myself, do the mental work that is required to stay happy and keep your face: I slip into the trench of grumpiness and judgment. I have my high standards and everyone who fails to live up to them deserves my harsh criticism. And I, myself, often fall into this category of unworthy.

So I forget, I accept this side of me and even let it take the dominating place and dictate the rules. I follow my immediate impulse: it’s always easy to go with the stream, isn’t it? If I feel like complaining, I will not deprive myself of the pleasure. Moody, grumpy, somewhat arrogant. I even started cursing again, which was so against my principles not so long ago. Who is this person? Why do I want to stick with it? Because I’ve been too busy lately to read any inspirational stuff to fuel me and send me moving in the right direction? I’ve been restless and I thought I knew the source of this restlessness, but I was wrong. Being busy fills up your life but often shuts down your mindfulness. That’s when you accept, forget and move blindly until you realize that you’re lost.

Why is Stupidity so Hard to Bear?

No mind, however loving, could bear to see plainly into all the recess of another mind. - Thomas A. Benett

Thank god for smart people. Even though I haven’t dealt with any for a while, for what seems like a really long time. I’ve been surrounded by or bumped into rare idiots that by now not as much as annoy but rather amuse me with their level of stupidity. It’s bad to be judgmental and we should all practice forgiveness, be lenient on others weaknesses and shortcomings. But stupidity in high concentration can throw anyone off balance especially since in most cases it tags arrogance along. If you deal with people who lack brain power you cannot remain calm, or play along, or descend to their level – the annoyance in you will keep building up till it explodes. No amount of training can prepare you enough to deal with stupidity. It will always take you off guard and bring the most impulsive negative reaction.

You can try to shut them out, ignore them entirely, turn them into your enemy so that hostility is always present to protect you from direct involvement. But those stupid comments will find a way to sneak to your head and get stuck there because you’ll keep coming back to the place they hit, as if hypnotized by the mere fact such non-sense is possible.

I look at my life in disbelief – where are you, smart people, why all of a sudden you evade me? What have I done to scare away Lady Wisdom and attract the under-thinking rabble? Why am I being forced to fence off their “genius” ideas before they contaminated my already-deteriorating mindset and turned me into an equally arrogant fool? Maybe it’s time to hear some smart people talk – to restore resilience and fight the stupidity virus off.

Deep Waters

Day-to-day activities. Small whirlpools that keep spinning fast yet barely leave any traces behind. Once the water dries - it’s like the spot was never wet. But we often let ourselves get caught up in these daily routines, award them more meaning than they are or deserve. We forget what’s important, pushing it back in our consciousness, confident that the day will come when things will slow down and we’ll have time to ponder. But on slow days we feel uncomfortable without the addictive routine to fill up space and time. When all this postponed thinking comes crashing – we panic. Too much to process, life that is too big to comprehend. It’s easier to shut the mind and keep all the noise out. Small life, small deeds, small thoughts…

Some days I succumb to the comfort of non-thinking, give myself completely to the busyness of the modern world. I push my limits and find myself on new levels: I think I evolve by letting the ever-evolving stream of life suck me in and push me forward. But there’s THE meaning that is above it all, the eternal truth that has nothing to do with where I am today or where I will be tomorrow. I always find it when I make an effort to stop. Because it’s always there, right in front of us, readily available whenever we cease playing games and drop all pretense.

It’s usually the big events that bring us back to truth: we unlearn to ignore it and open our eyes to see it, to face it. But once the emotions calm down, the catharsis is over, - we avoid the “eye-contact” again. We look but don’t really see, think but make no conclusions. I remind myself to pause and reconnect with my true inner-self, then I forget my own reminders and stay in shallow waters for months, avoiding depth. I forget that I can look with dignity, proceed with determination and speak with honesty and meaning: I forget to be myself...all the way...

Choice or Feeling?

Does non-stop moving take you away from sad thoughts or yourself? Does chasing goals fill your life with meaning or simply helps days end faster? Is anything real because it’s meant to be or do you make up your own reality? The answer is always BOTH. There isn’t one thing in life that is absolute, it’s a unity of the opposite poles – hence, never-ending fight of what should be mutually-exclusive ideas; ever-present paradox. You just need to lean towards one pole more than the other, yet keeping both in mind as possible. It’s like choosing to be good yet acknowledging that there will always be room for mistakes.

Can your true personality be tested by an impulse? When a neighbor’s girl came to our house bleeding because she cut herself badly on the glass, my husband mumbled “why don’t you call 911” and I screamed “let’s go, we are taking you to the hospital”. Does that make him bad (well, he was extremely tired) and me good because I didn’t question my decision for a second? We spent three hours in the emergency room and my sister, upon hearing the story, said that maybe one day someone will help me too because I need it, this will compensate for all the inconvenience we went through. But that’s not how I was thinking! I wasn’t earning points maybe for once in my life. It did feel absolute. There are many decisions I make out of duty whereas emotionally I’m out of it: I force myself to be good and to care whereas my true self doesn’t give a damn. And it upsets me because I am a supporter of goodness. So it makes me feel relieved to care for real, as if I surprise myself with my own capabilities, with the grandness of my heart I didn’t know was there.

And what does really count? Being good because that’s the way to be or being genuinely good because your heart is in it? Or be honestly indifferent? Or cultivate goodness in the place of indifference and thus slowly push it out? Will the law of the transformation of quantity into quality apply here?