1/19/04 - Martin Luther King Day - Monday
I feel like something inside me is about to explode. Some times I think it’s a good thing and other days it just seems overwhelming. Today, I don’t know what it’s all about. I started out the morning thinking of a dozen things I could do. Now things have turned around so that I am just overwhelmed and wondering what it’s all about. I wish some answers would come out of nowhere and then I would just know. I suppose the answers are out there and that there are umpteen different versions, each one correct in it’s own right. And if that’s true, then comes the questioning and wonder and the doubt. What would it be like to feel you know what it’s about and to believe it. Does that make you a prisoner in some sense? This afternoon I feel like I am no one and nothing. The things that I feel I need to deal with are things I don’t want to do. My last CT scan last week indicates that the “Stuff” is slightly larger. Exactly what that means in terms of actions or causes I don’t know. I can’t bring my self to start doing research again. I just don’t want to deal with this. Especially since I actually feel better in other senses - with the RA and other physical problems. I just don’t have the energy. And that’s all on top of the stuff going on with Becky with school and being pregnant. I feel like I want to disappear into a different life and being for a few months to get myself together. More of that cocoon desire, but not total withdrawal at this point. At least that’s good I suppose, that I want to make some progress. But as usual, when I feel the closest to the edge, it doesn’t really matter that that’s where I’m standing because there is too much else going on and no one seems to get it. I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe that’s the story I should write.
When the darkness rides down like a pack of wolves sensing a weakness in my soul, I want to shine the light on that dark spot, but I don’t have the light in my hands. I try to draw the power from within, but tears come because that place is surging, but closed to what the next steps might be. That same place that only yesterday helped me see the sailing visions of things that make me happy. What overtook me today? Why when I look at this question do I see so many possibilities that I cannot pick one. Seeing these things, brings me down some more and I crash into an emotional wall. The tears come unbidden but bring with them a sense of helplessness, that I am nothing and nobody. That I cannot see the point in why any of us are here. And being one among an entire lost race does not help my personal cause today. I can draw back some at least from that thought to return to my own self and this one particular lost soul. I have not enough energy bidding to save the world today. Yesterday I could have. Does the same person sit here today and how can that be so? Is something wrong with me? That I don’t know what my mission is. Do you know? Can you tell me? Would a pilgrimage bring me closer? There are only answers within myself. So how do I get them out? Are they really hidden? What am I afraid of? What do I really want? Why is it so easy for other people. What is really in the quiet of my mind? I have yet to reach that quiet place to know. These are the kind of days that call for escape. Come closer calls the deep dark. Come stand closer to me, let me wrap you closer in darkness. Let me pull you further from life. Down down and away. Would it be so easy to suck me down and would I be so ready to go if I had more to hang on to. Is that perhaps the difference? I prefer to think there might be some hormonal or chemical imbalance within me to blame. So how to make every day life or just life in general more worth the dreaming and the going on? Things are not what make it for me. It’s the experience. And how do you intentionally create and experience when a million different things could create it. And as I say that I think how lucky I must actually be that there are a million different things that could create the experience that I want. It just now seems that there is too much work and worry. I wonder some days if I am so selfish as I sometimes feel. Or if I don’t take enough time for me. Or an am I selfish? Or not? Or yes? Or not? Or yes? It hurts my head to think about it. But I know when I am down and out. I know that you can make change, just by changing. That you don’t have to wait. That you don’t have to ask. That it can be as big as walking away or as small as changing your mind. I wonder that we all survive at all. I feel so alone. And yet, if I listen to conversations, to music, to the stories that are told I am not alone. I’m not even the least bit original. Not one bit. And yet I am capable of anything.
Note to me - I started writing Progressions and Tidbits on this day.
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