This is my reality. I am trying to take responsibility for all the light and all the dark. The pain that I am experiencing is a result of actions, thoughts, patterns that I have maintained over time. I am becoming more and more aware of them and it is still difficult to let them go. I am clasping to burning coals. I know this is a big reason for my fluctuations between ecstasy and misery. I can go days feeling so at ease and then come crashing down, back to the truths that I need to face about this time and place.
The big picture is that I need to set my goals and then do everything in my power to make them a reality. The depth of despair comes when I am reminded of my choices, what I choose every day. Instead of clearing a path, I flow back into the pattern. In the ways I know, which includes a way of thinking of myself. Past the reflections of others, I can see myself clearly. When I let go of ideas and opinions of the people that I value, I can finally hear my own voice, quiet as it may be. Then I wonder why I don’t value those opinions more. Bending backwards to make sure that I don’t hurt anyone and the cost is great. I have let myself down in so many ways.
I keep circling back to this point, when I am given new options, forked roads in front. I can see one direction paved and lined with the same expectations, value systems, and limited opportunities. This way is predictable because I allow myself to be ruled by fear, by the worry of making a wrong choice so I allow choices to be made for me, whatever surfaces because I don’t think more of myself to strive for what I truly want. This is the past. The other road is shaded, not yet worn, unpredictable and it can lead anywhere. It is an open sky.
I can feel the fluttering in my chest when I think about it. Flooding memories of my childhood and what I had hoped for. When I would imagine my future and fantasize about being an artist, and travelling with a notebook recording all my observations. An adventurer, a truth seeker, an open mind amongst other open minds. I pictured freedom. Somewhere along the way, I gave up on those images. I tucked them away with other childish things. Instead, I tried to make myself fit in tight spaces, into positions that made me into a number, replaceable tool for efficiency, a peg in the machine. This is what I let myself reduce to. The options dwindled and were replaced with reality and the feedback I received from others reinforced that. Yet the color lives in me, the ideas blooming whether I acknowledge them or not. Dreams of places and people that I have never met and my imagination travels even when I am planted in an office chair. I can’t be held by a limited reality.