I have been thinking about my need in "finding peace", I've written about it before. But until now, I did not appreciate the impermanence of thought that "peace" provides. I have learned that nothing is permanent -a thought truly offered in a non-pessimistic spirit. But finding peace, I kept thinking was a solid form, a coalesced concept on which I needed to strive for. But I was wrong.
Every cell death makes way for cell renewal, and this is apparently my time. But in this case, I realize that shedding the miasma of my previous experiences is like shedding my skin; snake-like in a casing that used to resemble me but always seems to give way to another layer of "somethin' somethin'".
I realize that generally speaking, I talk a good game. I know what I should be feeling. I know the talk of healing, balance and joy. Yet the truth is, I know nothing beyond that which resides past the end of my nose (if that).
But lately, only just lately, and after numerous situations where I have "dated" different men (ALL platonically, mind you)...I am becoming less and less afraid about the idea of when I am alone. Its not a state I wish for, nor even aspire to, since my dream is to authentically partner up again someday- having experienced what a nice existence that can be (when things are good, of course).
But I have also learned to hold firm my conviction to avoid the "pick-me dance" again. I am not pushing anyone to fit my mold, nor me theirs simply on the chance that I hope to find that special partnership. Life is about give and take, not force and mold..and I find that indeed I would rather move on than to hang on. There have been real tests of recent moments when I might have taken a different tact, as when I was younger. But I don't really want to anymore.
Finding peace is a dynamic process by which I am learning about who I am, and what it is that I need to attain that particular gold bar.
I do have wants; who knew? I have had my attractions (one way or the other).. But no relationship hence so far have yielded puzzle piece fits, and that is okay. In the wake of the panic that might have ensued in the past (I think??), I now have a toolset that lets me find my center, at least eventually. Exercise is a big one. Meditation. Reading, thinking, and yes..blogging.
But really the biggest thing is recognizing in that hiccup of a moment that exists between great sadness and anxiety and ...me, is the split second realization that I have been nurturing to: STOP, take a moment, and BE kind to myself.
It makes me want to cry.
I want to be kind to myself. I don't want the mean voices of those who have sauntered into my path to linger on. They are not welcome, though I know they don't care and will always hang on to some extent. They are a part of me, my lesson, my bane. In accepting those negatives, facing them, it feels better.
Life is filled with lessons, and though there are still so many for me to struggle through, as well as this one which will be my hovercraft..always there, jettisoning in when I am weak, or sad.. I am learning to try and pull out my strength. The boddhisattva. My spiritual warrior...she lives in me, and is growing stronger.
I write this sentiment in many forms over many entries because it is fundamental to my emotional growth. My survival to become the person I want to grow into. The kind one, grounded in what so many before have figured out.
Leaping into faith and the karmic collective. Facing fear. My fear.
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