Every now and again you meet someone that reminds you of things past, of old passions, and why you do what you do.
Recently, I have become acquainted with someone who has refreshed my soul in this way. Reminded me that I have been relatively silent for quite a while now.
I've never felt much comfort in my writing. It is often highly personal, or deals with topics in life that are uncomfortable for people to wrestle with. I've struggled with inner demons or have done the internal work long enough before I write, however, that I do find some peace when I put my words out there. The difficulty, or road block, I've often faced is battling the desire to do it for gratification, or public recognition (even just amongst my friends). In some instances I'd gotten so used to sharing; for a moment, thinking about how many people would read it, how many comments I might get, or even during the writing process editing my words so as "not to offend someone" or becoming overly concerned about burning bridges.
As things have unfolded in the world at large, I have had many thoughts. Some of them may seem radical to people; to others not radical enough. I denied myself putting pen to paper because I either felt I had no horse in the race (punningly enough it was usual surrounding matters of Race) or, in all honesty, I had truly not completed the internal work necessary for me to feel comfortable expressing myself.
Part of what I've found about being me is that I can easily see or sympathise (to a limited extent on certain matters -- I have little to no sympathy for bigotry or hatred) with both sides of some issues, and I have to strive to understand and come to terms with the fluidity on my thoughts. There is a constant battle between "is this what I truly believe" or "is this something that I'm having a gut reaction to because I haven't taken the time to digest the narrative being handed to me or truly listened to the words of the person who has undergone the experience."
Sometimes there has been simple fatigue. I have an exhausting job. It takes a lot out of me, and there are times when I do not have to energy to want to engage with some of the events that occur in the world at large. So much vehemence and violence at work, attempting to think about the same "out there" is strenuous. I got to a point where I got tired of caring.
Other times I fall back to old traumas. Listening to the old voices that told me I was wrong, that loving only left me feeling alone, that I am a burden not a contribution. There's a terrible peace in that violence telling me theres no point in trying. But it's an easy escape and I've been silent to too long.
What I have learned is that you have to fix your mind before you can fix anything else. I have to dump out the jealousy, the pettiness, the unforgiveness, the blaming others that is hindering me from pouring into my life what is going to make me better. So, I refuse to let another year go by wasting my time with these old mentalities.
There will be blessings, there will be opportunities and there will be challenges, and tests. But as soon as I stop looking for answers to happiness in other people, and waiting for miracles somewhere down the yellow brick road, I can set my affections on things that are worth so much more.
And therefore, I will step into this moment and every moment hereafter.
