I am absolutely strangled by my fidelity to the concept of duality in all things. When I am frustrated, even furious, I can still somehow manage to glimpse the picture potentially obscured beneath the one I have occupying my field of vision, spiritual, psychological, actual. I am a slave to thinking dialectically. I never imagine I am always correct, in fact, I always put aside my feelings first and examine the others before I consider forming any definite functional emotion. It is difficult to articulate yourself when you are unable to decide on the reality of a reality. It makes for alot of strange, tautological warblings and a mind that doesn't like to put absolute pen to absolute paper. And I am feeling as if I am so busy swimming in possibilities that I forgot how to stay afloat. I am sure this is a necessary stage for the mind and intellect-- being wide open, despite the chaos it causes, and taking measure of variables of the barometer of life in order to arrive at your own soul barometer, one birthed from hard work and patience, one that stays for life.
But at times I long for the certainty of self and being that I had two years ago, which sprung from the fertile earth of young adulthood where all of sudden, everything is blown wide open and there seems to be new growth, there seems to be an uncontrollable and limitless explosion of new life, new, new and so healthy. The problem being that I can see (how I wish I could forget sometimes) that this is certainty is borne not from standing the test of time, not from recovering from the various typees of spiritual and personal desecration, relearning, renewal, but of niavete. One hasn't been tested yet.
But at times I long for the certainty of self and being that I had two years ago, which sprung from the fertile earth of young adulthood where all of sudden, everything is blown wide open and there seems to be new growth, there seems to be an uncontrollable and limitless explosion of new life, new, new and so healthy. The problem being that I can see (how I wish I could forget sometimes) that this is certainty is borne not from standing the test of time, not from recovering from the various typees of spiritual and personal desecration, relearning, renewal, but of niavete. One hasn't been tested yet.
But right now, I want to talk to the universe and ask, quietly, tiredly, " hasn't this been enough for now? Can you please, please, cut me some slack, cut me a break. I have opened my self to this void to learn and I have thrown myself into fire and I am now at your step, screaming sanctuary". Then I feel bad, because maybe I am giving in just before the evolution. See? Madness, maddening duality. I am too old to believe in certainty as I once did and too young to know how to handle living beautifully in uncertainty. And recently, I feel as if I am betraying myself. I feel as if for all my watching, my silence, my patience, I am violating part of my very self's iron and calcium forged rock bed foundation. That can't be right; I've felt disenfranchised, frustrated, helpless, reduced, but never as if I was betraying my self or my philosophies of life.
As a result, I am taking the time today or tomorrow to have a very long, very honest talk with myself in Pere Lachaise. It will probably take 4 hours. I rarely have these heart to hearts with myself, but somewhere in my body my internal clock is set to alarm, and it's that time, whether or not I have the hours to spare or feel I have the energy to emerge as anything other than miraculously fixed. I've grown a thick skin, I can take arriving nowhere again. But what I will never take, never, is not being up for the journey.
As a result, I am taking the time today or tomorrow to have a very long, very honest talk with myself in Pere Lachaise. It will probably take 4 hours. I rarely have these heart to hearts with myself, but somewhere in my body my internal clock is set to alarm, and it's that time, whether or not I have the hours to spare or feel I have the energy to emerge as anything other than miraculously fixed. I've grown a thick skin, I can take arriving nowhere again. But what I will never take, never, is not being up for the journey.
