21/06/2010 § Leave a comment
Feeling a little overwhelmed, not because it’s a Monday, not because it’s “the start of the week”, but because I feel like I put a lot on my plate and not just in the physical world, the mental world, too.
Let me explain a personal observation that I had about myself, since I don’t seem to have any limits or boundaries and always seem to share my thoughts on this little virtual reel that I have begun.
I have never been a “relaxed” person and it’s something that I will be perpetually working on as a developing individual. My mind tends to wander, trying to understand and then live in the “bigger picture”. At times I even force it. The something that I demand of myself is to become self-sustaining. Doesn’t sound like a bad thing.
However, there is a danger in it.
For the past few months I have become slightly obsessed with being independent, self-generating, looking for growth on the individual level. I thought that one had to really know what one likes — as in having opinions about everything — in order to contribute to life. So, a mental list of my likes and dislikes was made. Check, check, check. In the boxes.
There, now I am an individual. Now, I know who I am.
When I stopped for a moment — stepped out of my head — and started paying attention to my surroundings, I began to realize that growth affects us from the outside as well as from within. Outside the sandbox is a medium, a forum, a playground to toy with ideas. Interaction with people is as important to development as figuring your own internal stuff out. Such is life. We are social beings.
So it was, sitting with C, enjoying an ice-cold beverage — maybe not so ice-cold — in the park that we got to share and interchange information, not statistical numbers, but wholesome feelings about, well, normal stuff. About what it means to work or create or socialize.
Talking in the park, I began to feel a lot better. Some “it” had been bugging me, like sand in your socks. What “it” was I didn’t know. I had some idea, but the full weight did not actualize until I said it outloud:
– C, I was talking with A and I think I am a recovering snoboholic.
– For real, b?
– Yeah, man.
This past weekend was when I was a little stressed out and slightly existential. I turned to my roommate and melted a little, I have no idea what I am doing. I am torn and I always have been.
At least you know that now. Some people go through that later in life.
Why is it that we, as humans, feel so compelled to do something with our life? Perhaps that is the “What” — of which I will get into later in the week on Wednesday.
Lying in my bed last night, exhausted but still awake, I went through the motions of life’s recent history: Places. People. Panic-attacks.
While re-stringing the events, I started noticing a common thread, the same colour of string ran through the patchwork of observations, experiences and conversations. It went from one end of my life’s quilt –twisting and weaving and knotting-up in some areas — to today, the where and the when that I am in. The grey-ish thread became thicker, more pronounced closer to this end of things. Upon closer inspection, I realized that that thread was not grey, but translucently silver, my eye reflecting in its glimmer. It was me.
Who we were, who we are and who we are becoming seems to be a process of little realizations. However, it can be difficult to have these epiphanies unless we are perpetually stimulated. The double-edged sword is that the challenge can be frightening — either physically, mentally and/or emotionally. Fear of a challenge can be a hindrance.
Jameson & me:
– As humans, we seek to optimize pleasure and avoid pain. Those are our fundamental drives, controlled by our brain. However, what we believe to be painful or pleasurable may not be so, it’s just our brains telling us that.
– We do all things out of love and fear.
– There you go.
And, so it goes. We, as our creature selves, sometimes focus our attention on what we should become in order to be loved and accepted instead of enjoying who we are as individuals in the now. I guess that’s what Jameson meant when he told me to “always be where my hands are”: To take each step and decision as an open door instead of another wall of a cardboard box.
It seems as though that “it” was my fear of being put into a cardboard box. As it turns out, that was all my imagination. Actually (as it really turned out), I was the one putting myself into that box. But, I am fortunate to have met some pretty incredibly understanding people. Family, friends, strangers who were not afraid, but understood my crazy, whimsical impulsiveness. That might be my box. And, maybe not. Perhaps I was/am in this transition, trying to truly understand what or who I am. Never a bad thing.
Maybe our purpose in life is just to be exactly the way we are. Awesome and whole as different individuals with different tastes and different methods of discovering likes and dislikes, loves and dis-loves. A quilt, of sorts, each square connected to another: no two the same, but making a bigger picture.
There. I feel better.