I swore to myself I wasn’t going to do this.
Today is Thanksgiving.
When I left I knew very well that I would be missing occasions, happenings, and gatherings. So I swore: I am not going to be that person who writes melancholy and trite ramblings about missing home on the holidays.
Luckily I am keeping my word. Sort of.
I had always been that person who believes it is so much easier when other people are not a fraction of the equation. Out of sight out of mind. I entertained the idea of being away for the holidays for a year or maybe longer. Suffice it to say I was okay with it. Quite frankly I yearned for solitude. I sought out a path that would lead me to isolation. One in which I could live freely without the tangled web woven by relationships. When time moves, it moves for me. My isolation thus far has been a painful and rewarding experience as well. Time not only moves for me; it also pauses and transcends.
I reached a significant point in my journey in the past few weeks. It seems that years of sifting the wheat from the chaff has finally paid off and I have found a vibration that integrates my inner and outer life. I have found ways to utilize my time, because inadvertently, my time is all that exists. I have reached goals that I had once only dreamed of; I quit smoking without any difficulty, returned to my passion for swimming, put my long years of schooling to good use, and created beautiful pieces of art. It’s truly amazing to me and I have spent many moments in awe of my good fortune. I find it ironic, that in one instance I can cry hysterically for the blessing that the universe has bestowed on me; a poor trailer kid from a dysfunctional life whose dreams have come true, while in the next occurrence, I am so depressed and self-loathing, that all I can feel is deep sadness. But in this paradox of emotion, the very essence of self reflection and long periods of time being alienated, help me to understand that the constant flux is representative of something whole. I am grateful for the ability to feel everything in abundance. So, in retrospect, while I sit in my living room, after I just completed one of my favorite paintings, I take in the moment. I sit in total solitude. My painting hanging to dry, drinking a cup of Japanese tea, “Subterranean Homesick Alien” by Radiohead playing in the background, and I realize the perfection of the moment. The slightly askew meter of my life.
I woke up this morning fighting the sadness of not being home for the holidays. Marveling at the lie I have always told myself about hating the holidays. About hating my family life. About how I constantly isolated myself. Realizing in one of those pedestrian moments, that I have always longed for those times. Times when I could say, “I have somewhere I belong”.
Bittersweet. Right now, I belong here, but only now. Temporarily. Forever, I belong home. I belong in the hearts of the people I love. And love renews. As my day went on, I received news that my nephew was born. A beautiful new life; a colossal addition to the ubiquitous love that binds my family. So as I sit in my moment of thanks for all the things that surround me… for the merger of my universal soul… the perfection of the moment lies askew. Feeling so uplifted, but yearning to be with my family. To meet my nephew, to tell my brother I love him, to praise my sister-in-law, and to give thanks along side of my family and friends.
Oh, time, how you play fool to no one.
But what you give in exchange for your unruly behavior is the ephemeral moment of perfection and the indestructible evolution of love. The first moment my brother and sister-in-law looked in their son’s eyes, the toast for another year of thanks, and the space in between where I am sitting right now.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The brink of happiness.
Something has been happening to me. It's a feeling that is not unfamiliar; it is one that has always haunted and eluded me. Based on the fore mentioned title, it seems that the next sentence here should be my exclamation of happiness; how I avoided it all my life due to a manifestation of all of my insecurities and fears, and now finally, one day, THIS DAY, I have realized that happiness has been at my door always, and I have finally decided to answer the bell.
Hmmm.
The truth is,(or so I believe it to be): yes. Happiness eludes us all, and yes; it is always there for the taking via a shift in perspective...
But what I have been experiencing is the brink of happiness.
When I was a child, I formulated dreams and goals, to numb the circumstances I lived in. I was a severe dreamer; always getting in trouble for dazing, lollygagging, and half-assing. Every situation I encountered had a counter part. My room was a nursery filled with my children, a rock concert stage, an artist’s studio, a prison, and an empty space that I vacated...all in that order. As I got older my goals and dreams matured, but always circumvented around the person I wanted to be someday. I would imagine the qualities and characteristics I would have. I would imagine the people and events that would take place. Through this daydreaming I would uncover clues to my strengths and weaknesses, desires, and dislikes, insecurities and fears, and pave a road of self-exploration rich with facets of my inner being. Dreams served as a pathway. It was my dreams that first introduced me to the universe and the power of intention.
When I was 4 years old I went outside one night to a little hill in the woods next to my house. Everything was changing. I think from a very early age I learned about change and that most usually it comes with the yin and yang of something good and something bad. I remember being scared. But even though it was twilight and getting dark in the small clearing in the woods, I wasn’t afraid of the elements. I thought about my grandpa who told me that if I made a wish on a star it would come true. I couldn’t tell you why I wished for this, I just only remember being on this hill and thinking about it. I asked the star, in a Jiminy Cricket manner, for brothers and sisters. I knew damn well they weren’t coming from my mom and dad, but I needed them. That was the first time I asked the universe for anything. And it delivered. I spent the rest of my life adoring every inch of who they are.
I will never forget that memory. It had taught me so much in so many ways I can’t begin to list. But its pertinence to now is reflective of how dreams, how we, how our inward selves and outward selves are all threads in the loom. How our dreams and desires come from the deep recesses of our souls. They are the well of happiness. What prevents us from happiness is the way in which we access the well.
Due to my constant dual state of fantasy, I was always close to the well, but only utilized it to quench my thirst, never to stay hydrated.
When I was a kid those dreams were a life line. When I was a kid those dreams were so enhanced and extrapolated and their purpose was simply one of promise for something better. Although they were a source for learning about my personal definition of happiness, they weren’t enough alone. When I would encounter gratifying situations, I would match them up to my ideal, and if they didn’t fit, I wasn’t truly happy. I was living a notion of controlled happiness. When I look back in retrospect from today, what I do remember more than happiness is content, peace, and love. Happiness for me has become too strong of a word. I fear happiness as a component of the English language.
I (or even we as people) rely so much on happiness, because to me, happiness was a merger of actuality and fantasy. What has begun to happen to me now, is the recognition that I am on the brink of happiness. I sat down at my desk before and rolled over in my head the current circumstances of my life. I began to feel elated. I then felt an overwhelming lump in my throat when I almost said (to myself mind you), “I am happy”. I don’t want to say it. I realized that all my life I was afraid of being happy.
If you ain’t got nothin’ you got nothin’ to lose.
I was afraid to say “it” because if I did it might stop happiness from occurring. Something bad would happen. It will change. It won’t last. The funny thing is, I haven’t even fully experienced or completed the actions that I am associating with happiness. I am on the brink. I am on the brink of career situations and projects that I have dreamed of. I am on the brink of spending the rest of my life with my prince charming. I am on the brink of...
But I’m not. Maybe I am not healed, but I am at peace with my soul. Maybe I am not influential, but I am influencing children and people everyday. Maybe I am not showing work in major cities, but I am painting in solitude frequently. Maybe I am not Mrs. So and so, but I am in love. Now. Right now. I am. I am in an uncontrollable state of living.
I've never given up on day dreaming.
Hmmm.
The truth is,(or so I believe it to be): yes. Happiness eludes us all, and yes; it is always there for the taking via a shift in perspective...
But what I have been experiencing is the brink of happiness.
When I was a child, I formulated dreams and goals, to numb the circumstances I lived in. I was a severe dreamer; always getting in trouble for dazing, lollygagging, and half-assing. Every situation I encountered had a counter part. My room was a nursery filled with my children, a rock concert stage, an artist’s studio, a prison, and an empty space that I vacated...all in that order. As I got older my goals and dreams matured, but always circumvented around the person I wanted to be someday. I would imagine the qualities and characteristics I would have. I would imagine the people and events that would take place. Through this daydreaming I would uncover clues to my strengths and weaknesses, desires, and dislikes, insecurities and fears, and pave a road of self-exploration rich with facets of my inner being. Dreams served as a pathway. It was my dreams that first introduced me to the universe and the power of intention.
When I was 4 years old I went outside one night to a little hill in the woods next to my house. Everything was changing. I think from a very early age I learned about change and that most usually it comes with the yin and yang of something good and something bad. I remember being scared. But even though it was twilight and getting dark in the small clearing in the woods, I wasn’t afraid of the elements. I thought about my grandpa who told me that if I made a wish on a star it would come true. I couldn’t tell you why I wished for this, I just only remember being on this hill and thinking about it. I asked the star, in a Jiminy Cricket manner, for brothers and sisters. I knew damn well they weren’t coming from my mom and dad, but I needed them. That was the first time I asked the universe for anything. And it delivered. I spent the rest of my life adoring every inch of who they are.
I will never forget that memory. It had taught me so much in so many ways I can’t begin to list. But its pertinence to now is reflective of how dreams, how we, how our inward selves and outward selves are all threads in the loom. How our dreams and desires come from the deep recesses of our souls. They are the well of happiness. What prevents us from happiness is the way in which we access the well.
Due to my constant dual state of fantasy, I was always close to the well, but only utilized it to quench my thirst, never to stay hydrated.
When I was a kid those dreams were a life line. When I was a kid those dreams were so enhanced and extrapolated and their purpose was simply one of promise for something better. Although they were a source for learning about my personal definition of happiness, they weren’t enough alone. When I would encounter gratifying situations, I would match them up to my ideal, and if they didn’t fit, I wasn’t truly happy. I was living a notion of controlled happiness. When I look back in retrospect from today, what I do remember more than happiness is content, peace, and love. Happiness for me has become too strong of a word. I fear happiness as a component of the English language.
I (or even we as people) rely so much on happiness, because to me, happiness was a merger of actuality and fantasy. What has begun to happen to me now, is the recognition that I am on the brink of happiness. I sat down at my desk before and rolled over in my head the current circumstances of my life. I began to feel elated. I then felt an overwhelming lump in my throat when I almost said (to myself mind you), “I am happy”. I don’t want to say it. I realized that all my life I was afraid of being happy.
If you ain’t got nothin’ you got nothin’ to lose.
I was afraid to say “it” because if I did it might stop happiness from occurring. Something bad would happen. It will change. It won’t last. The funny thing is, I haven’t even fully experienced or completed the actions that I am associating with happiness. I am on the brink. I am on the brink of career situations and projects that I have dreamed of. I am on the brink of spending the rest of my life with my prince charming. I am on the brink of...
But I’m not. Maybe I am not healed, but I am at peace with my soul. Maybe I am not influential, but I am influencing children and people everyday. Maybe I am not showing work in major cities, but I am painting in solitude frequently. Maybe I am not Mrs. So and so, but I am in love. Now. Right now. I am. I am in an uncontrollable state of living.
I've never given up on day dreaming.
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