This past January, in a celebratory New Year’s visit with one of my dearest friends, as we talked about our lives and dreams, I realized something: that I could no longer feel myself, at all. I told her as much. I felt lost within myself, that I didn’t know who I was, or what I wanted, I felt like an empty vessel, purposeless, floating in space.
On New Year’s Day I received an email from Meetup saying “Make 2016 your best year.” That email is still in my inbox, because for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to delete that message. Now, 6 months into 2016, I am manifesting that message, feeling the best I have in a long time. Emotionally set free, I’m experiencing the joys of unweighted breath and the ease of light, pittering steps forward.
I disappeared and I waited. I waited until I didn’t feel completely sick and disgusted with myself, until I could remove an invisible burden from my back. First, I had to figure out what that burden was, and it took me almost a year. If I had a spirit animal, I’m convinced it would be a snail, not the tiger or fox I had hoped for. I resolved issues I didn’t know I had with my family, I addressed them within myself, dealt with anger and depression. In the time I’ve refused to write anything, I’ve been in therapy, had something of a revealing assessment of my mental state and have battled it as fiercely as I can, worked to tie loose ends until I finally, in a completely anti-climactic manner, I earned my freedom.
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Initially, I picked this up because I was in the mood for some historical fiction and hoping to find something that could compare to the experience of reading Memoirs of a Geisha. After reading, I debated between giving the book four or five stars, however, I ultimately settled on five, because the complaints I have about the pacing of the book exist only because I wanted to read more about the lives and bond of these two women. On top the relationship plot, the story is one of a person who wishes to have a true and “deep-heart” love and when given the opportunity to nurture that love, she at times falters, not being able to give love as much as she hopes to receive it.
The truth is, I’m too busy to write or blog properly at the moment. I’ve got so much going through my mind about what I’d like to write about: all of the thoughts, instrospections, and philosophies I’ve been considering and how much they’ve affected the changes I’ve made. The problem is that so many internal changes are happening, which are positively manifesting themselves into external changes and actions, that I don’t actually have enough time to do write about them, even though I want to, because I feel these are the important moments to remember. I’ll keep track in my notes and make sense of this blur later. The more I do the less I have the time to dwell – this is a good thing, and very different from reflection.
Often in literature and film there is a hero who is the realization of the dream of a mentor. The mentor is older, perhaps downtrodden by life, lives alone with their dashed hopes and small remnant of inner flame. When the hero comes along the inner flame of the mentor is rekindled, the mentor encourages the hero’s dreams, similar to his own youthful dreams, and with his life experience he encourages the hero forward, guiding him around the mistakes that he has made. The story is of course resolved by the hero. The mentor, who did not achieve his initial dream, is filled with a sense of satisfaction and completion through the accomplishments of his protégée. No one ever dreams of becoming a mentor, everyone wants to be the hero of their own story. I am perhaps on the cusp of my own definition as hero or mentor, but today, for the first time, it occurred to me that the role of my life could possibly only exist as a supporting role to another.
This past year has been a year of change, a year of great realizations, and ultimately a year of growth as I admitted to myself some of my deeper core issues which have thus far made me feel as though I have wasted years of my life: not seizing the day, not working hard enough, feeling unnecessarily ashamed based on the expectations of others, being nice to my detriment. Thrown in is a little teenage angst, as most of these emotions caused me to recall quite a few Pearl Jam songs, fitting for my modestly existential moments. Continue reading
The point is to do what can be done.
Stop living in the shadows of what was not done.
Put yourself first. Put your ideas first.
Do what you need to do for yourself before you are pulled into the world that involves others.
Do the work that will achieve your goals, then deal with everyone else’s requests and/or drama.
Don’t blindly follow anyone’s ideas about how you should live, no matter how close they are to you. No matter how sound the advice, your inner self must stretch and screw up on its own terms.
Quit being ashamed of yourself! Go out with people and have fun!
At this point, you’ve wittled away the friends that are judgmental and narrow about life’s paths. The friends you’ve got want to see you, you really like them, so bloody hell, just go to dinners and get out of the house because you’ll end up having so much fun. :)
This year I had a breakup. I wanted to prove something to myself, but didn’t. I spent about two months feeling fairly lost, numb, and unable to shift my internal stillness no matter how much I tried to will it. Then, I thought of different ways to escape. How to get out of where I am right now, how to move forward, how to change things, where to go. So, I went to France.