Let this night in the wake of a waning moon's energy inspire the latest purge. I choose to release all that does not serve. There is much to fit that description. I am burdened with irrational notions; I carry the incubus of unanswered questions. Get me not wrong--I have asked, but I have been summarily rebuked, and my curiosity remains unrequited. I have been stymied because I will not let go. I bide my time like a spider--but lurking serves me not. I tell myself to move on--I have lectured myself often, and have even proven to myself that I indulge often in thoughts that are diametrically opposed to those which will bring me to the "place" I purport to seek. I am not swayed. Perhaps it is the German heritage--perhaps it is a dull brain, although I'd not like to admit to that (especially given what I know of a certain grifter's unkind actions involving just such an assessment and subsequent tale spinning--or is it web spinning?)...or maybe I am just determined. I prefer that description above all others. I have an idea, and I will not be diverted. Lacking a sense of humor, other than in the happy ability to "roll with the punches," I am not distracted by shiney baubles along my path. I am not crow. Some say that I am stubborn. I do not agree with such a statement--as I have said in other forum, I simply make up my mind--and the background noise of other thoughts all melt away to the exclusion of my purpose.
I considered today what I feared. I am not shy--never have been really. I am too unattached to any other, and certainly do not value anyone else's opinion when it comes to me and anything associated with me, to suffer at possible judgment by another. This has not been a trait that makes me very attractive--but I am fun in an elevator! I start conversations easily, and can avoid those uncomfortable silences that jar one's confidence in the presence of strangers. But I do not connect. This does not scare me. I have never felt the love of another (save my cats--although I am sure that were I to die in their presence, they'd not hesitate to start chewing my face--ugh)--yet, being use to this, I am not afraid to die unloved. In fact, that is welcome. Having never lived with love, I certainly do not fear dying in the same state with which I have made my way. I have the ability (save my chronic procrastination) to make lots of money--and yet have been poorer than poor and have survived--so THAT doesn't scare me. What do I fear? If I cannot define it, does it not exist? Will I be unable to overcome the hurdle if it remains cloaked from my knowledge? Something tells me the answer to that is a resounding YES. I have a tickle within me that urges me to explore this notion. It is a strange idea to go in search of a fear isn't it? Well, one has to occupy herself somehow, I suppose.
No comments:
Post a Comment