Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Forces at work and choices to make

Some believe that we are here for a reason and are meant to repeat this life until we understand that reason. Some believe that behind everything that goes on in the world, there is a divine plan at work that we are not meant to fully comprehend. Some believe in a type of energy; what you put out will eventually come back to you. I have yet to accept any of these doctrines because they all require some degree of divine intervention. My difficultly with accepting that concept is perhaps a future topic but generally speaking, you need to understand that conflict within me exists in order to make sense of my thoughts here.

There are times that I feel as if I am in touch with the idea that I have a purpose. In those moments, I am not sure what that purpose is but it feels like one that is great in scope. I have survived two horrific car crashes without a scrape, I held onto my sanity through some adverse conditions in my adolescence and somehow the stars seem to align for me, yielding glimpses of what it feels like to be whole. It would seem that surely those circumstances must have been divinely coerced. Sometimes I am able to close my eyes and feel the sun on the darkest day and I am at peace. How could I not find divinity in the beauty of the world around me?

Then suddenly, when it feels as if my footing could not be more sound, everything crumbles below me and I end up alone and left with the task of sorting through a calamity. When I am at the lowest point of these valleys, I hurt. I recognize the good that I put in the world and how my heart can love while being completely void of fear and then I feel that it is all for naught because it has gained me nothing. Even when seemingly doing everything correct, the walls still seem to fall. When I get home at night, I remove a mask. It is one of a boisterous personality that is strapped in place with confidence and charisma. I now realize there is a hairline fracture in it from overuse with the last three years. Time may heal all wounds but we are still forced to bear the scars. How could anything divine be woven into something that hurts tremendously?

Through this existential rigmarole, I suddenly see that I am not okay. I have no anchor to guarantee my position and this storm has been assaulting my shore relentlessly for weeks. Should a new relationship play the role of anchor within this metaphor? Maybe my son? A god, perhaps? My ability to commit to any one person or cause has been postponed until further notice. My calendar is blocked, as I have scheduled a casting call to find that out this year. For a moment, I feel as if I am right back where I started almost two years ago. Alone, brokenhearted and needing to reconcile something internally that is wrong. As soon as that thought enters my head, the concept does not stick with me. Why? Something feels vastly different this time.

While I do not have anything to hold myself upright, I do have better sight to the world around me. Several things have corrected my vision over the past few years; honesty in my relationships, a genuine level of effort in loving those around me and the reconciliation of priorities that my son lovingly and inadvertently resets for me every day. I will find enough solace in that to stand and move on. Perhaps I will even discover the purpose I was meant for within the design or I will carve out my own path based on my choices; whichever ends up more suitable to the truth.

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