And despite all my good intentions, all my insight, all my experience, all my ... love - despite all of my capabilities, I am here - in a very fragile position, despite the strengths I still have.
And still, a part of me seems to oppose my attempts to heal, to ask for and receive a period of peace and respite.
That is a hard admission to make.
And all I can do is every moment I have with just a little bit of freedom of mind and space, to ask my Soul - in there somewhere - to work fully with me, to set me free. To receive help. Try to soften up whatever hard barrier once petrified around it.
There is only that one thing to do in such a situation.
Like climbing a mountain, one step at a time. As you do with any mount
Maybe I am a really super-smart-ass guy who knows a lot more about life than anyone else my age, huh?
Yeah, maybe so.
Would I prove it, then, by tearing somebody else's life-advice apart because I felt envious about his success?
Whatever work I do in the future, to earn a living, as long as it is not too dreary or filled with a majority of people I don't resonate with ... it is certainly work that will have to include and be done for ... other people.
Actively. Face to face.
Not from a distance. Not always, at least.
This was another reminder. But I will take it to heart.
There's a very real opportunity, however cliche, to reconnect with our souls on a long commute, by doing nothing in particular but looking out the window and let thoughts fly.
If you don't believe in Soul then substitute with the term "feelings". Those are the ones we so often leave un-noticed in the everyday drone and race. We ignore them. Act habitually and frantically, trying to get everything to 'work out'.
Ignoring if the basis for wanting to work out something in particular has changed; if we feel differently about this or that matter.
We just act automatically, re-actively, habitually. Or at least I do. Maybe you are different?
Well, I didn't think so.
So there's the deal: Try looking out the window, next time you commute. Try to do nothing. And just feel what you feel and what comes up.
Maybe when you commute next time it will be to somewhere entirely different.
I constantly surprise myself. I wanted to have more in common with Tolkien than Hemingway, but I always end up with Hemingway. Or Woolf. Or Dillard, I guess.
I don't measure up to any of them, but we are talking about subject matter here, perhaps the only subject matter there truly is:
After much dithering, I've made a decision. And it happened because I was rejected.
Well, kind of.
I had asked a freelance editor to take a look at my recent short novel. I figured I would pay her, then we could set a date and then I'd be motivated to finish the second draft.
She refused an appointment, ...