Monday, March 1, 2010


I don't know why I keep drawing earth cards. My head is in the clouds most of the time, or is it? Maybe I'm just not understanding something. What? I'm in a weird space right now. Information is jumping at me from every which way and for the most part, I'm standing in the center of it watching it happen. Sometimes I wish I weren't so strong. Sometimes, I find myself looking for that illusory comfort in weakness but I know I'd be reverting to an old self, one that doesn't serve me anymore, never did. I ought to feel fortunate. I've found ways of getting in touch with feelings without them negatively affecting me or taking on a self-destructive role. Maybe I'm not as emotional as I think. Maybe, I'm more of a thinker than a feeler. I don't know.

I'm sure I'll be overtaken with emotion next Monday night when I get to see Muse perform live. I'm sure I'll be so overwhelmed, I just won't be able to help myself. I used to make fun of people who showed that much interest in a band. Now, I'll get to make fun of myself. Good. Let me be lost in music, lights, and the roaring sound of people's voices and screams. Excellent. Okay, I get it. I'm a feeler...

I saw my family yesterday--noticed the way the passing of years has shaped and changed their faces and their eyes. I miss them, not who they are but what they're not, what they'll never be. This realization hits harder each time I visit with them--especially when my brother and his wife are there with their kids. I become more aware of myself. I can see how differently we've grown.

I feel like an odd ball who bounces from wall to wall, unnoticed. I've always been the strange one, the one who sought more, the one who resisted settling for anything less than the best. And of course it's this idea of best which differs in its manifestation or translation from my parents idea of what best means for them, for me. My mother is a wife to a husband that is my father. But my mother has a name and she has a voice that is drowned by tradition and rules.

Fear keeps her in her rightful place. That's what it's designed to do. She's been reduced to mother and wife and this kind of seemingly innocent association. You can tell me there's nobility in that but not if it's at the expense of her ability to choose, of her spirit or happiness, not if she is unsatisfied with her circumstances, not if she wants more and has wanted more all of her life, only to have succumbed to her lot willingly, due to a perceived lack of strength. I'm trying to see her as an individual with dreams and hopes independent of anybody else. No, surrendering to fear is just fear creating more fear, plain and simple. There's nothing honorable about that no matter how you play it. Fear becomes our master. We become slaves to it. It wins, we lose. It takes away accountability and responsibility. It places the blame on life and on others. It takes away power. I will sacrifice but not in pursuit of somebody else's ideal or vision. Sacrifice means to make sacred, not to succumb to self pity because you feel you didn't have another choice. There is always another choice. I refuse to be a victim.

And maybe I'm a little angry. Maybe I'm tired of my own insecurities. Maybe I'm tired of the games I play with myself at the expense of my self. Maybe I just don't care. But that's a lie. Maybe we should wake up to the realization that no one is going to save us. This task is reserved for us and us alone. We can not be for others what we are not for ourselves.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

i've been saying it for years, but the hallmark quality, the one attribute that i truly believe is lacking in the world at large is accountability.

honesty with self leads to bravery, which is the most difficult of tasks to master: to *live* bravely. but i also wonder if we all don't make a choice; letting fear lead us is still a choice, though some will say that they have no choice.

i think anger can be purifying. it's too hot to hold onto. once you've let go, you're an empty vessel again.