- Books, Literature, and Writing»
- Commercial & Creative Writing
Sorting Through My Mind
I am still really depressed. At first it came up like a grouchy anger but I was journaling through it and it sort of landed like something else. I thought I knew what was beneath it earlier but now I am not sure. Emotions can be so darn elusive. Depression should be allowed to stand alone. It does stand alone but when it comes about through repression, you have to let something else slide into view. I was almost certain something else had slid into view.
I feel like I am trying to choose something different but nothing feels right. My brain farts and everybody listens. I had a funny thought last night but I don’t remember now what it was. I can hardly make myself do anything. If it is something that requires thought of any sort, forget it. It isn’t even 5 in the afternoon and I want to go back to bed. I am grumpy, worse I keep going in circles. The whole point of writing for me has been to stop the brain from moving in circles. It allows me to plot out a strategy, add structure, it is like making the job be a time format for my life – which my job is. The writing is structure. It adds dimension so it can be seen.
I was talking about God being sloppy with means basically that I am sloppy since I am the hand working it here, right? If God is all things…etc, but I am not interested in a spiritual debate on how God manifests or what for or what through; it comes down to what is important to me.
I even feel myself hesitating to write what is important to me as if it will be judged unworthy somewhere by someone as if it isn’t good enough to exist, which translates to I am not good enough to exist which is ridiculous because I do exist, therefore I am good enough. Done!
When I start to really think about what I want…I almost always back into it. It is the money. Not because I have a great love of money but because of the things I love that money can provide. But then I think, what are those things? I think I want to write and be on a beach and sipping mimosas and latte’s while I write. However, I don’t do mimosas now. And, I could if I wanted to. I do lattes now. I can get to a beach if I want to and I can write if I desire. I am writing now.
So, if it isn’t about the writing or the beach or the latte, what the hell is it? I don’t fucking know anymore and that is the absolute truth. I used to think my life was a reflection of the universe and what its truest nature was, and to a degree I really do think that. Not to a degree, fuck that, I am a microcosm of the macrocosm, my life is the universe in small form. Anybody who denies any piece of them self by saying I am this, but not that, is simply in denial of their complete self.
If it is out there, it is in here. So, to take it a step further…I am in exploration of self. This is self knowledge, self understanding, self exploration, self centered, selfishness. There is no other way to explore it. I mean there is another way but it wouldn’t be as inclusive, I think. It is the self as all things. It is God self, universal self, multi-version self, it is the All that is self in continual exploration and learning. I am not a proponent of the idea that the universe is constantly growing, I think consciousness is growing and in that growth it looks like the universe has moved in some way…but you can’t increase something that is already in existence, you can only become more aware of what was once hidden in the shadows. Or, that is my thought.
My purpose in life is to find the shadows others cannot yet perceive. More importantly, I think it is to find the shadows I cannot yet perceived. You know when I speak to Dr. Sue, especially when it isn’t face to face, there is always this arrogant knowing sitting behind my eyes; which in truth is appalling to me. I don’t know where that arrogance comes from but I am aware of it all the same. In a way, I look at it as…she allows me to wear the face of arrogance because who else is going to let me? When thought of that way, it is rather amusing. You have to be able to stand up to a certain height in order to carry arrogance properly, in a way, she stands that high which allows me to reflect that back. Isn’t that interesting? What is the other side of arrogance, if it is so? The definition of arrogance is prideful combined with a feeling of superiority. Maybe I am using the wrong word. I do feel like I know more than she does. I do think I am superior to other human beings. As laughable as that seems, there is something inside me that cries out more, not that it needs more, but that it is more. I am rational enough to know that if it cries out within me then I do not have a monopoly on what cries out in the human race, if it is in me, then it is within all peoples. Basically, I am no better, not superior…possibly not even of greater awareness. Yet somehow the way it feels is superiority. I am greater than in some way.
Why do I care who Mitt Romney is now? I just spent an hour reading opinions on who he is most of which were negative. I am grateful he didn’t win the presidency but so what, people didn’t like him. I think he is everything in the US that has caused us to be in our economic rut but he is symptomatic of the values of greed that got us into this mess. I don’t think people truly understand that when we base our value on something as intrinsic as the stock market we can literally lose our worth overnight. Still, that is what our money is based in. Nobody has any real worth in the US anymore, not backed by something solid like gold or silver. Well, a few people might and they are probably Jewish…why because they are smart and they know what has value. That kind of sucks doesn’t it?
And that still doesn’t explain to me why I am not being productive. What has value as a human being? What is the point of wisdom without action? I have walked many paths but what does it really mean to me, to anyone? To say my function is to learn what my nature is, is just fine. But my truest nature is all things…the good, the bad and the ugly. Over the years, I have embodied more of the good or learned how to not be offended by the ugly. No one wants to live in poverty, yet I do essentially. And I know it could be worse. I could rise up but what would be the point? I have sat on the mountain and that doesn’t give me enlightenment. It only gives me a higher perch to see from.
I’m not sure I value enlightenment or Godliness, if I did wouldn’t I be in happy pursuit of it? If I could wave my hand across the world and have it be different, what would I change? In some ways, I would change nothing because there is nothing which should be denied. In others, I would grant an appreciation for animals and how they are different from our species which judges and condemns and does not truly live. In many ways, animals take from life what is available for them and what comes tomorrow is handled tomorrow because we just don’t know so there is no point in stressing over it.
Do you think a dolphin wakes in the morning and wonders what it will do for the day or a robin? Is there some greater sense of worth to be found there? We are thinking beings so that is what we do but I am most certain that even though we think we are not more intelligent. If anything the things we think are intelligent showcase our ignorance.
I want to be passionate about something but most of what I feel is despair. The inability to effect change in my world or a lack of desire to put forth the effort, when I do put forth effort it feels like I am a rat running through some learned maze in order to find the cheese. I am tired of cheese. Where is the nectar of the Gods? Where is the manna of my soul? There is something deeper here under the patterns of thought but I can’t reach them and if I can’t then who can? How does one dive deeper into the psyche? I was once able to challenge the self and bring it into greater awareness but these days I find myself floundering in shallow waters unable to even rise to my knees. From some perspectives this would indicate a dark night of the soul, but for me it is larger, it is an underlying pattern that gets inserted into my reality. None of this is real and yet it prevails.
I am sick. I am the yellow dress of my dreams which hold both the sunlight and the cowardice within it. I lack fortitude. I fall under my fellow man as they seek to climb to the top and do I boost them up in hopes of a hand held back to drag me forward or do I pull on their pant leg and drag them back into the pit with me. It seems to me that if I am not actively pushing them forward then by my non action, I am keeping them down. I no longer know how to compassionately serve others, or myself. Did I ever?
There was a time I actually liked myself but it was long ago. I don’t know who I was then, perhaps I was simply unthinking in my life so it made the preponderance of the great unattainable. Attempting to wonder at the world, has maybe simply put, made me ordinary. I used to see things more clearly, and now I wear glasses...what does that say? I just want it to be different but ask me how and I cannot answer because I don’t know. If there were still wild horses that ran free in tall grasses, maybe I could point to them and say that thing there is something I desire. If there were still dragons that flew the night sky in search of value, perhaps I could look at them and say there is something worthy. If I were God, I would look at it all and think with a deep sorrowful sigh that I had already seen it all, so what is left now? What is left to be seen that has not already been seen? What is left to create that has not yet been created? What is left to be born that has not yet already been born? Show me that which has not yet been born, created or seen…that is what I would ask. This is the great mystery for which I seek. Not some “thing” which has already been, but some “thing” that has not yet become. That in itself describes me, I suppose. I am in the becoming, not that which has been. I have not yet become and have no idea what I am becoming. Will I like it? Will I love it? Could I possibly become something that I would abhor? I think not…but perhaps I am mistaken.
Perhaps because I have written down dreams for so long, I learned to explore the inner workings of my mind and open a stream of dialogue that is pretty consistent with bouncing from one thought to another similar to a dream I might be having. For whatever reason, this piece of dialogue came up last month in regards to several different conversations and dreams that I had been having. I can't say it is completely coherent. It makes sense to me but that is because my mind fills in anything that I might have skipped over in the telling. This is the voice I use most often in my journals. If you have read this and have commentary, I would appreciate feedback on the style specifically...but also on the content. I always wonder what people care about reading and like most of my thoughts, I just don't know. Please feel free to add comments and thank you for reading.