Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Deja Vu again

I want to love you all the time. But sometimes my heart is full of bile and it hurts to try hurts to do anything close to my heart. I want to tell you I love you, but I'm afraid if I speak I'll hurt you again, no matter what I say.

It's not you I'm mad at, though I may blame you, though I may scream and bite. Ok, sometimes I am mad at you. But even then, it's not really about you. It's always about me. Not to be narcissistic, but it is. My anger and my love and my everything. Storys I tell about clouds as they pass by. I love you. Some times I prick myself, on the sharp parts of the world, and cry. Or get pissed off and try and break the pointy bit. Always, we are searching for something.

It's amazing how long a journey it seems to be. Just to get back to the simple truth. But my heart won't take any shortcuts. No matter how much my mind pulls and shoves.

I don't know any reason it works this way; it just does: you have to step every step of the way. It hurts. step, step, step. I'm alone. step.
I'm confused. step.
I don't know what to do. A trip, fall, skin my knee. Get back up. Step.
Am I ever going to make it? step.
Oh, I want that nice thing back. Where the fuck is it going!? Why is it leaving me. A long wait. finally, another step.

What if the truth was that you had never done anything that wasn't perfect? What if your job description was to do exactly what you did, are doing, right now? What if you were actually the greatest succes possible?

I'm not saying that's the truth. All I'm saying is, it's no less true than "you are a failure and you are not doing enough, not doing the right thing, and you are a bad person because of it."

You fear that if you don't hurt yourself for failing, if you don't fear failure, if you don't feel miserable for all the imagined things you haven't done, you will degenerate into your worst nightmare.

But maybe the truth is, if stop acting based on fear and loathing and guilt, the only thing left will be to act on that innermost voice within you, that knows your hearts desire.

This is a very simple idea. very simple. No need to complicate it. The idea is this:
maybe, who you are, what you do, is ok. What you think, what you feel. It's ok. The only people who matter, accept you and love you. No matter what you do.

Perhaps, fundamentally, you are wonderful.
Perhaps, fundamentally, you are God.

I need to forgive myself. If I want to stop being full of shame.

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