Insights

Too often nightmares surface to catapult me not forward, but backward. Not so much to relive the past, more along the lines in pointing out mistakes as well as transgressions I have wrought. The pain, as unbearable as it is and can be at times, is also welcome. A reminder if you will, that I am human. That I grieve. That I suffer. That I unknowingly as well as unwittingly, allowed myself to become embroiled in a world that is not real. As much as at the time that I wanted it to be so.

These past months have allowed me to revisit an inner sanctum that has never before been revealed to those that know me. I have even surprised myself on occasion, insomuch as being able to identify patterns I thought I had been able to overcome, when in truth I had in some subtle way changed them to be different. I hid them from myself so I might continue in my endeavor to continue being indifferent, ignorant and self-pitying to what I had created.

The road has been long and arduous, and I travel it still putting my best foot forward as that inner strength I believed had deserted me manifests itself in silent encouragement to keep going. I have been given a gift I think. A gift to be able to continue, while looking back at what I had done. I don’t think I would be where I am today if not for the choices (good, bad, indifferent and painful as they were) I had made.

I find that vague intimacies and harsh cruelties are memorable; a comfort if you will in its searing energy that consumes me. I have learned that no one person makes me whole or complete; rather they help fill a void that is forever within reach. I still hear the whispers at night, an open invitation to join and let go. But I stand my ground, afraid of becoming caught up in that oblivion that is neither hot or cold, warm or tepid, hard or soft. It just is. That blankness that can be overpowering to the senses; that bad taste in the mouth which causes you to spit, rolling the tongue over and over, the scent of something dark and musty to assail and cause the shuddering to continue.

We are human. We make mistakes. I live my life the only way I know how and that is by the choices I make. I love; I bleed; I weep and laugh. I furrow my brow and wrap my arms around myself to ward off a chill and to keep the monsters at bay. I despair at times, and lose faith. But one thing I cling to is hope. That shining star that casts streaming golden rays forth, and with its subtle kiss upon my cheek, it allows me to continue where once upon a time, I might not have.