July 25, 2012
i had an interesting revelation as i was falling asleep last night.
once upon a time, i made a fool of myself. or at least. that’s how it feels.
i know an individual with whom i cant seem to hold my ground. who inspires each of my insecurities to come out of hibernation. their presense brings out the worst aspects of myself and mine, theirs. and looking back, i can only describe it as caring so much that hatred was inevitable. it was a constant battle. and it ripped each of us in half just trying to figure out a way to exist next to each other.
and for me, it tore my life in half. although this seems dramatic, its how it felt. while i generally feel composed. in control of my emotions. and all in all sane: for those months, i wasn’t any of these things. i was needy. out of touch from myself. desperate. and miserable.
so looking back from my current perspective. my clear. with aplomb. stable perspective. i’m embarrassed that i have the potential to be that person that i obviously was for that time in my life. and that there was a witness to this side of me doubles the embarrassment.
it feels like an insult to my credibility and my character. and my reputation.
but for whatever reason: as my mind traveled into the memory of that shame as i fell asleep, part of me dismissed the inevitable embarrassment that i have been feeling each time i thought about those months.
for the first time, instead of shuttering at how i can be, i embrased it.
i found the humanity in my worst moment. and the compassion that such instability can actually have.
although i would rather not relive the desperation i felt during that time, my entire being was filled with emotion. good emotions? No. peaceful? Jesus, no. I was a reck. But i was alive with feeling.
all i wanted to do was write. and think. absorb all the terrible things i was feeling and make something from them.
and as soon as that person was eliminated from my life, it’s like i can think again. i hate less. and it feels like i have my sanity back. but that intense emotion also vanished.
desperation often times breeds purity. the type that makes the world seem colorful. not necessarily a beautiful color. But vibrant nonetheless.
it’s not peaceful. it’s not simple. but its still something extravagent.
and last night, i accepted this part of my past in a way i havent been able to. although it falls contrary to my normal reputation, it lives as proof to my ability to feel monumentally.
this moment in my life was an earthquake. While it destroyed a real amount of who i was for that time, the catastrophic reality also showed me the world’s powerful potential.
And reminding myself of this eliminates the embarrassment and the shame for being able to be however i was during those moments. it no longer feels pathetic to have that little control over my feelings.
feelings will never equate with weakness.
they are phenomenal. enigmatic. and resounding.
and although stability is my fate of the moment, passion can be everything.
and remembering the importance of this sentiment is enough for the moment.
June 5, 2012
i’m not good at forgiving.
i harbor. and i remember. and i dont really let go.
i might stop caring.
i might momentarily forget.
but i myself rarely completely forgive.
i heard once that forgiveness is accepting that we cant change the past. and although this sentiment echoes true, i cant help but hold out a small amount of resentment because of it.
i couldnt tell you why i bind myself to this exceptionally taxing fate.
and while i do truly wish i could habitually forgive, my trust ineffably does not run that deep.
i believe that people can change. and that their mistakes can make them better people. that occasionally, we allow the worst part of ourselves to make our decisions and that this fact does not drive the true humanity in who we are.
but. for each moment that my heart is betrayed. that my trust is damaged. that words have been said that were probably never needed.
for every lie, cross, treachery: a piece of my heart is taken away and hidden in a place that the agent of these acts will never be able to find. to this end, my heart can never be. completely. broken
my callousness leads part of me to believe that at certain times forgiveness is blind. a rationalization for the way we wish things were. that so very often, forgiveness is naive.
but of those who can forgive easily. who want to. who dont have to fight against everything they are to rid themselves of the burden that grudges bestow upon us: i am envious
i understand it is also naive to believe the past can be changed.
and in this regard, my naivety is bottomless.
i dream of moments being erased. of regrets becoming unwound. and of words being unspoken.
and over the years, i have misleadingly come to trust in the strength of resentment and the power that it holds.
and while our most prized mentors of history have believed in the genuineness that is unique to forgiveness. that resides in nothing but this phenomenon.
i have struggled to accept their convictions.
i dont believe that i am alone in this as true forgiveness is in itself, rare.
but i do believe in its existence. and with that. i can hope that i will learn to accept the unchangeable nature of the past.
the weak can never forgive. forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. Gandhi
February 15, 2012
i watched a movie the other evening.
one of my favorites.
and the overarching message was waiting.
that we’re all waiting.
for a moment. for someone. for something.
we’re all waiting.
and as i worked through this, i was wondering if we really were.
and if so, then what is it im waiting for.
perhaps that answer is always: tomorrow.
im not sure if this is enlightening. or depressing. or perhaps both.
but. im in a never-ending wait for the next moment. and what that next moment has in store. what its going to bring along with it.
ive heard that this is a problem…a constant source of stress and anxiety: not allowing ourselves to live in the present but rather existing in either the past or the future.
and while ive been trapped in a sense of disconnect from the past, ive found an obsession. a fear. and a hope in the morrow.
but this concept of waiting.
on one hand, it traps us in the perpetual struggle of never attaining what we’re looking for.
but it also gives us reason. and fuels our hopes. regardless of how transient these desires actually are.
i read a quotation once that said “One must desire something to be alive” (margaret deland)
and perhaps thats why we wait.
thats why i wait for the next. and why you wait for an answer. and you, for love. you, for death. you, to lose. you, for what you want. you, to know. you, for clarity. you, for sanity. you, acceptance.
and perhaps you, for me.
because without that wait. without that hope of something more.
maybe we’ll forget what it means to desire.
maybe our yearning lives in our anticipation.