Sometimes I feel that even though at that pivotal moment I chose not to follow my dreams, I am still living that life as if it is not my choice. As if at the fork in the road, I took the wrong path but every step I make feels like it is the wrong step because part of me is still on the other path. The difference between the life of my dreams and the life I live is that the other decisions I make based on the life I am living do not seem to make sense. I feel as if that is because they do not make sense to the life I should be living. My body and mind and soul are drawn to making decisions that promote my dream life like water will choose the path of least resistance as it carves out a river. If you reroute that flow it might flow in another direction, but its purpose and destination do not change. And if that river has enough force, it eventually reverts back to the path it was meant to flow. I think when I get depressed and anxious I am making decisions that do not coincide with my true self which always exists in its perfect dream life. Anxiety and depression are the rocks that the river cannot cut through and are resistance to show me I am going in the wrong direction. Relationships and situations are the catalysts to me choosing to change my path, even if I do not realize they are doing it by either being softer or harder than they are supposed to be.
I have not been able to help feeling as if I am running away lately. I have been discussing my feeling as if I am running away with my therapist from the beginning when I talked about being unable to leave a job that was not only, not serving my professional needs, but also hurting my emotional and basic human needs for respect. I feel as if I am running away. As if I am in this situation and I need to make it work.
It has been a hard lesson that I keep relearning that choosing an alternate path away from conflict is not always a submission to or avoidance from a conflict. Half the time in my life I have merely nodded and given in, giving up part of my soul to someone trying to get something out of me without a fight, defeated before even stepping up to battle. The other half of the time I look at a situation already prepared for it to be a conflict, expecting a conflict, weapons drawn before i even step up to the battle. I have swung back and forth so much, I did not realize there was an alternative.
Sometimes in life there are puddles
You can walk up to a mud puddle, and give in and just walk through it knowing you are going to get your shoes dirty, you can gauge the mud puddle from a distance and figure out how hard you are going to have to run to jump over it. If you are anything like me in option 2 you land in the puddle with so much force you splash water up your pant legs or worse.
But what if you calmly see the puddle ahead, do not judge that puddle, and then see a simply way of avoiding the puddle. You certainly would not say you were running away from the puddle. You were avoiding getting dirty, not the puddle. You saw it, you might remember a day when you played in puddles and fondly smile as you walk by. But getting dirty that day did not serve you, so you simply walked on by.
It sounds like something that would make us say we are objectifying that situation or being selfish. What if that situation was a person, is ignoring that person’s self-worth and only concentrating on its worth to me selfish? I would say that it is selfish, but that it is not wrong if you go into the situation or up to that person realizing that the only thing you will gain out of the situation is your perspective? That the worth of that person is the same, that the worth of all people is the same.
Who is to say what a life is worth
We like to think in the abstract that it is wrong to take a life. Then we give exceptions to this rule based on what makes us feel safe. What if we realized that outside of that core definition of what people are and where that fundamental respect for life lies, it is all perspective. So if I judge from my perspective, something is not good for me without judging that thing or situation, I can clearly, consciously, make decisions for my life and what I need. Before I can do this, I need to wipe away all the guilt and shame societies lies on us when we truly determine what is important to us and what we need. That our needs are not just for basic things. That our desires and wants have a meaning to us, and without exploring them we can never unattached ourselves from those desires. When we are unattached we can find the root that drives desire and that drives our wants. It is normally love.
But, for me, once I was attached to less stuff, it is much harder to ignore that this suffering is unnecessary. I realized tonight that I am living in a women-who-I-have-never-met’s home, feeling the same feeling of home. Even more of a feeling of home lately. Because I am finding the building blocks that I want to make me MY home. Not the home available, not the nicest house, not granite tiles or a nice kitchen. What really makes me happy being who I am and living the life I have. Every morning in the shower I used to ask Jack if he wanted to go home in an excited voice like we were going someplace special. I never felt at home.
Laying my foundation blocks
But, instead of feeling guilty and trying to change myself into something I am not to alleviate that guilt. Instead of feeling ashamed of what I want and who I am. Tonight I am taking stock of who I am. These are the things I will gather up on my time off and organizing and reevaluate when I need to. Slowly I will put these blocks together and start building, foundation first, who I am and what I want. Hopefully some day I will fully realize I already posses all those things. That my home has always existed in myself, in God or the Universe or Buddha or a collective soul of the world. I hope I realize that all these things are really one and I am one with them. We are one with everyone, so there is no need to judge anyone, they cannot control who they are any more than I can, so I should not judge myself either.
I think I feel as if I am getting my first block set off of a dusty shelf. A set of those big plastic blocks that have one or two big round holes and pegs. No matter how you rearrange the blocks you cannot change their components. Sometimes you need a house because you have people to live in it, sometimes you need a rocket-ship because you are going to explore, sometimes you just pile them as high as you can, just because you can. But the blocks they are the same. There are bright reds and blues, long ones short ones, some that have been deformed out of use or manufacturer error, result is the same though.
I am always being told yoga is the flow from pose to pose not the perfect execution of a pose and that life is the journey, not the destination. We are all what we are given, we all have similar blocks, some that came broken, some we broke ourselves. Sometimes someone else has a block we need and we make strong fortified structures together, sometimes for a day sometimes for forever. But we carry the blocks with us everywhere we go and it is the only thing we need. We can make anything with those blocks. We can shape them however we need to or want to. We can share as we please or do not please.
I am building the life I want and sometimes I use my blocks to create a bridge over a mud puddle, realizing that the challenges I choose to meet are somewhere else. That this puddle is not a challenge for me. Right now I am building blocks to make me happy and healthy and to fly me away to see things I have never seen and experience perspectives I have never seen. It is my reason for traveling, for yoga, for seeing my therapist, for laughing and crying with friends, and for writing.