I just found this post in my drafts folder. I think it is from December 2010, ish. Interesting to look back on these thoughts now. I am just now realizing that the thing that I used to look back on to say to myself "I got through that, I can get through anything." does not feel as significant. I think that a year from now, I'll look at these current few months of my life and say "I got through that, I can get through anything." And then, sure as rain, I'm certain life will bring more challenge, more difficulty, more pain, more hardship. There's no way to avoid suffering and misery. So what to do?
Dec 2010:
Sometimes I lose track of myself. This has been happening often, actually. Perhaps it's a part of grieving. I think I'm out of the throes of the deepest grief, I seem to have some momentum in my life, and I think in response to this my mind went the direction of thinking that things would smooth out now, that I would know what to do, where to go, that I'd have direction. Not so. How could I expect to be on my feet, sure of myself and my relationships just 2 months after such a change? I miss the solidity, the unquestionableness of where I stood with her, with others. That's gone now, and I'm left adrift without an anchor. Perhaps that's why I've been daydreaming of getting a tattoo of an anchor. I'd like to find something to attach myself to. Something solid. Sometimes I pick a person to be my anchor. This doesn't work out so well. People don't stay put, don't do what you want them to. That's for the best; I wouldn't want a relationship or another person to be my solid ground. Sometimes she ended up being that for me, which wasn't the best. But overall we figured it out when that happened and adjusted. We were good at navigation, at adjustments. I liked that about us. We were even good at adjustments through the end, through the final stage of navigation. Now we're struggling a bit when we see each other, not quite knowing how to relate.
I miss knowing where I stood in the world relationally. True, there were parts of that world that didn't accept my place in it and my relationship in it. But I knew where I stood, who I was with, what I was doing. Now I feel all over the place, helpless, lost. Eventually through my actions and my choices, something else will become my solid ground, the thing that I lean on at the end of the day, count on when the going gets tough. I can let that anchor emerge naturally without making a conscious choice. Or I can put effort into directing myself to a certain anchor. I'd like to think the latter is a better idea. However, I have seen lots of people religiously, dogmatically, fervently try to anchor themselves on what is "right" or "good" or whatever and it sometimes ends up causing the world a lot of pain, and them a lot of stress. Even "love" as my solid ground feels scary. I'm wary of using that word so casually. Love is hard, it's annoying, it's work, it breaks you down, it shatters your dreams, it lays waste of the self, it requires strength and a sense of strong peaceful solitude, security in your individuality. Love isn't something I'm ready to say that I can obtain or mark as my anchor, as my True North. However, I believe that it was love that has led me through these past 2 months, that has allowed me to let go and be open to whatever adventure life brings me next. I suppose there are 2 sides of love here; love which I generate and have control over offering and then love which exists outside of me, whether or not I acknowledge it, is powerful being my imagination, and is out of my control. Ultimately, it's my goal to seek to want to center my life on that greater Love. But honestly, I'm spending lots of effort being scared and protecting myself from that kind of surrender and loss of control.
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