What’s the point in desiring to know the future when I have yet to figure out my past? If I knew my past well enough, I’d understand clearly why my present is what it is…and since I obviously don’t have peace in my present, why worry about the future? It’s only through reflection that we are able to become self-aware…only through reflection are we able to understand before we accept…in the absence of understanding, we accept foolishly, or not at all.
Tag: reflection
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Integrity is Dead
Betrayal never is an easy pill to swallow, no matter how jaded I might be. The worst of it is when I find myself compelled to question every moment of sincerity that I expended in affection, admiration and respect towards those that I held in such high esteem. People, including me, often suggest that no matter the outcome, the good memories of what has been can never be taken away. I know now that that is absolute rubbish!Betrayal sours good memories. But worse than that, it creates doubts where there should be none, where we can’t afford to have any. Not only does it raise questions about the inherent integrity of the betrayer, but it also calls to question every instinctive judgement call I ever made. How can I trust myself to see good in others if time after time I have been proven wrong about my assumptions through the simply callous act of betrayal? How am I supposed to believe in others, see the good in them and give them the benefit of the doubt if every single time it appears that I completely missed their deceptive manipulations?
Being trusting is so easily, and seemingly justifiably misconstrued as being naive instead. I can’t live suspiciously while maintaining a facade of sincerity. At least I choose not to. And so it seems that if I persist in staying true to myself, I risk growing old alone and isolated, with my nearest and dearest only appreciating the veneer of me, whilst being totally oblivious to the emptiness that echoes inside, waiting desperately for the arrival of one that I can embrace completely. Perhaps that shows in some subliminal way which is what scares them off due to the overwhelming expectation of true commitment and trust.
But I can’t accept that I am alone in this want, in this desire to have a true companion. Surely every human being has a need to be understood, accepted and appreciated? If this be true, then why do others not seem to want it as much as I do? Are we all victims of our own betrayals? Too many questions, not enough answers, and certainly a scarcity of sincerity to make any responses even plausibly trustworthy.
Like I said before, integrity is dead. Self-preservation killed it.
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Habitual Distractions
There are times when I feel like receding into a more simpler state of life. I reminisce about times gone by when things seemed easier, and life felt less complicated. But just as soon as I start taunting myself with these selective recollections, I realise that that is all it is. Selective memories of what felt good, or not so bad. If life really was simpler back then, it’s only because I lacked the realisation of what was really happening in my life and around me, and not because it was any easier.
The more I learn about myself, and especially others, the more complicated life gets. And since I can’t unlearn it all, I can’t see it getting any simpler either. That got me thinking about habits this morning. Hardly seems like there’s a connection between the two but I realised that if it weren’t for the blessing of habits, I’d constantly be distracted by the mundane. But when the mundane becomes habit, it frees up my conscious state of mind to focus on what’s really important. And when what’s really important is daunting and seemingly insurmountable, that’s when I slip into the state of morbidity that makes me yearn for the distractions of the mundane without the burden of real life attached to it.
Life, by its very definition, will not get easier. I can try to keep it less complicated, but the only way it can become simpler is if I grow oblivious to all that I’ve learnt already. I’d rather not. There’s too much beauty and wisdom that I paid a heavy price to experience and acquire that would be lost in the process.
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Reflections
I’m 40 now. That’s supposed to mean something, isn’t it? Strangely though, it doesn’t. Nothing changed when I turned 40. Everything that was a struggle or a joy at 39, continues to be a struggle or a joy at 40. Seems I was right to despise birthdays then. All it does is raise unrealistic expectations about impending changes in your life, so that you’re prompted to look at others in order to measure your worth. Some would suggest that it’s an innocent but meaningful milestone. I would suggest that if you need a birthday to review your life, then you’re sadly distracted by what’s not important.
Wish I had something positive, passionately inspiring and uplifting to write about. A marble-hearted soul showed me the truth of my own insignificance in my little world recently. Just made my world that much smaller. This is not as cathartic as I need it to be. Probably because a few days ago I typed out a note to my dearest marble-heart acknowledging my insignificance, and resolved to read that same note every single day for as long as I need to, so that I never lose sight of that reality and dare to venture out in search of a life again.
I’ve got a publisher apparently interested in looking at more of my work, but I can barely string together a coherent post. My book has taken a back seat for almost a year now. In moments of disappointment and dejection I deleted some really good writing which I obviously regret. I’ve had the urge to delete the rest of it recently as well, including shutting down my blog, Facebook account, and Twitter account. Retract completely from the social scene, albeit a digital one, and become a digital hermit. But in the pursuit of my marble heart, I isolated myself from many around me for good reason as well.
I feel like a wasted 25 year old. Seems we all get distracted by bullshit during the course of life. Some more than others. Seems I’m incapable of writing a meaningful post tonight. Will probably delete it in the morning, but until then, and with a heavy heart at the thought of my recently lost beloved, I’ll throw in the towel for now. Peace. How I wish I had some…
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Trust
Given my overactive and often morbid imagination my mind often plays out the worst case scenarios of even the best circumstances. So it’s easy to imagine exactly how torturous and depressing my thoughts can be when the odds are stacked against me. However, it’s precisely my knowledge of this inherent morbidity of mine that I need to establish a level of trust in humanity that has always bordered more on naivety than trust. But that’s assuming that I know the difference.
I don’t. And that’s probably why I’ve had as colourful a life as I have. But the years eventually jades even the most optimistic of souls, and the boyish hopeful spirit in me eventually gets tampered with enough reality to create a healthy dose of cynicism, but coupled with the innate sense of idealistic optimism, it’s proven to have created a healthy balance for reflection at times when my soul is most troubled. But reflect or not, the dis-ease of my soul never subsides for long enough to allow any sense of peace to have a lasting effect.
And so the trust I place in man, and more importantly the trust I place in the Almighty is all that I have to hold on to if I am to retain any sense of sanity in this insane world. Exhale! … it only seems to let the air out, but the toxins remain firmly lodged within.
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Resilience
Seeing a beautiful soul regain its wings is the most rewarding and fulfilling sight ever. The resilience of the human spirit is only ever dowsed by the deliberately destructive behaviour of our own choices. If we allow the spirit to be guided without dictation but instead through true reflection and trust in the One who created us, then how can the spirit ever falter in the face of resistance…or worse still, oppression? Allow yourself to be beautiful…if you don’t, you’ll be answerable for your crime against your soul.