Search

Reflect Out Loud

"The unexamined life is not worth living." – Socrates

Category

Home

Silly

Sometimes I think how silly we are to take our lives so serious. How we get so caught up in our own dramas. In our own stories.

It all feels so real when we are going through it. We don’t always know how to separate ourselves from our story. From our circumstance.

Every difficulty we overcame in the past is a memory. A memory now was a very real thing then.

I remember one night where I cried so hard for a boy I liked who didn’t want to be with me anymore. When it was happening it was so painful.

Now, looking back, it feels like nothing. I don’t care about him anymore. I don’t even think about him. It’s just a memory.

So, too, will all other painful experiences eventually be. A distant memory.

All the times I’ve taken life so seriously was a waste of a potential easier, less stressful experience.

When I remove myself from my self created emotional wounds I am so much better. So much stronger. So much more in tune with the vibration of trust, peace, connection, ease and flow. Then I realize what a dumbass I’ve been for doubting and getting lost in my own melodrama.

But it’s short lived. Soon enough I’m sucked back into internal chaos. A chaos that at times I feel addicted to. Accustomed to. Familiar with.

Sigh.

How silly I am.

Advertisements

I’m sorry

I am sorry.

For all the times I’ve failed. For all the times I’ve fallen short. For the times I’ve hurt you. For the times I’ve been less than good.

For the times I’ve envied. Felt jealous. Felt superior. Felt less than. Felt worry. Felt fear. Felt anger. Hatred.

Sometimes I feel like I’m in a prison. Sometimes I have no energy. No desire for anything.

I’m sorry for that too.

You are good to me. And I don’t want to take you for granted.

But in this life where everything is slipping away it just feels sort of pointless at times.

Eventually I will have to say good-bye to you. To me. And this truth hurts.

All this effort. All this work. For nothing.

I am sorry for my negative thinking. I wish I knew better. I mean, really knew.

I know conceptually that when you think better you feel better. But I don’t want to just think to think. I want to know.

I want a deeper connection. With myself. With you.

I want to be kind to me. I am kind to the world yet often an enemy to myself.

I’m sorry.

Forgive me.

Be patient with me.

Don’t leave me. Don’t go.

But time is taking it all away.

The plant is dying. I tried to save it. I will try it again.

Shiny

I want you to stay shiny in my eyes. I don’t want to lose the spark. The magic.

I want to stay enchanted by you.

I don’t understand me. I’ve wanted this more than anything. And to think that maybe I could have it, that maybe it could be something, kind of stresses me. Worries me. Turns me off.

What in the heavenly fuck is wrong with me?

Why am I unhappy when I have only reasons to be grateful?

There was a moment where it felt like you fell from the pedestal I put you on. Where you didn’t seem as shiny. As dreamy. As this “thing” I need to win over. This “thing” that I need to obtain.

How disgusting I feel to even say that. As if you weren’t the most valuable gem. You are. And sometimes I think you deserve better than me. And sometimes I wonder if you also wonder whether or not you do.

There’s too many unknowns.

I don’t want to distort the image I have of you.

I want you to stay shiny. To stay elusive.

Why am I like this? What is my problem?

 

Movement

Everything is moving. Always.

I’ve arrived at this interesting realization that no matter what I do or don’t do there is a greater force operating on me that wouldn’t allow me (even if I wanted) to just be still. To not have to move forward with time.

It appears that life goes on no matter what.

It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t do because life will go on.

Of course it matters in the sense that depending on what I do or don’t do the quality of my experience will vary. Like if I choose to sell all my posessions and go live on the beach as a bum or if I choose to work a corporate job in New York City the quality of my experiences will surely be different. But removing this aspect of quality aside, what I’ve noticed is that even if choose to do nothing – meaning, I sit in a corner and I simply allow time to make choices for me then I will enevitably keep moving.

The best way for me to describe this is comparing it to the game of Sims. Have you ever played it?

Well. In the game, if you don’t actively make choices for your sims they will go on auto pilot doing their own actions. You must actively take control and direct their actions to control them. Sometimes my Sim might want to cook but I think it should go learn the piano instead. So I must actively cancel out their choice and direct them towards the piano. If I don’t actively make them do what I want they’ll just auto pilot their way through time.

In some ways I feel like reality is like this. I am here. I exist. I notice there is a force acting on me that keeps moving me forward even if I don’t want to. I have choice. Or at least I think I do. (But this is also a subject to further discuss later). Through choice I can have some control over the quality of my experiences.

But the point that I’m really making is that it doesn’t fucking matter what I ultimately do because it appears that reality is embedded with a formula that figures itself out.

In other words, even if I don’t know what to do in this moment, it doesn’t matter because the formula of time is going to figure it out for me. Time is going to push me forward whether I know what to do next or not. There is something operating within reality that is already deciding what’s going to be next even if I don’t know what’s next.

How much influence and power do I really have over my future? Over my destiny?

What the fuck is destiny anyway?

I can tell you what I want.

I want to feel good about myself. I want to own a home by the beach. I want to have a million dollars in my bank account. I want to be in love with you and have you be in love with me. I want to travel the world. I want there to be peace within me and in the world for those who choose it.

Is it going to happen? I don’t fucking know. But I want it to. I want to do my part in making it happen. But it’s not all me.

Also… getting to that moment is a journey. And it’s a silly ass fucking journey. Because you do alllllll this shit to get there only to have it all slip away.

We work so hard to build treasures and in the end we just die. In the end it all fades. And nothing lasts forever. Time takes it all away.

What bullshit.

So I guess the real way to live is not as so to acquire but perhaps to simply experience. Perhaps to simply enjoy the temporary ride.

 

Wack.

 

Okay. I’m being cynical.

But it’s kind of annoying to build it all to lose it all. Don’t you think?

Timing

I am trying to trust.

*Keyword*, trying.

I’ve freaked out in the past. I’ve worried in the past. And literally everything worked out somehow.

I want to be at step 53949 but I’m at step like 89.

And when I tune in to my hard little head the gentle whisper of the universe just says, “breathe.” “Patience.”

And I’m like, “What!? What do you mean breathe?? Patience?? Don’t you see I need this figured out or else I am doomed?”

There are days where I am so confident about it all. Days where it feels like “Duh. Obviously it’ll work out.” And days where I am like, “Guess I’ll just end up old, broke, and alone.”

FFEA6300-E3B7-4736-A071-26A5C05C41A9

I’ve done a decent job at being fairly stupid. At having an opportunity to be more advanced in my career and finances than where I am now.

Then I rationalize that “Everything happens for a reason.” Or that “I am exactly where I am supposed to be.” Or “I’ve taken a detour so I can become who I was destined to be.”

Blah. Blah. Blah. All the bullshit I need to tell myself so that I don’t feel so horrible about my poor decisions.

Maybe I am too hard on myself. Or maybe I am not hard enough.

Honestly, sometimes I am just downright lazy.

And sometimes I don’t give myself enough credit.

Whatever.

I don’t want to make this another one of those posts where I just complain to you about everything.

When I stop with the tales of woe I can actually see the truth of how privileged and lucky I am.

I live in one of the most beautiful places in a privileged country. I have access to good, organic food and clean water. I have amazing, supportive friends. I have family who care for me. What the fuck do I have to complain about?

This post was supposed to be about timing, as you can see by the title above.

So let me touch upon that for a sec.

I exist. There is something rather than nothing. There is a force operating on the atoms within reality. This force is called time. Today, as we know it, is May 13th 2019. It’s 2:33 P.M in San Diego, California where I am currently existing. Out of all the possibilities in this possibly infinite universe I was made to exist here in this moment. And for what purpose? And to what end?

I don’t fucking know. To sit here and write this message, I guess. And maybe, possibly, to inspire the world.

 

*image credit to google images. Don’t sue me white dude for using your face, please.

Climbing

What a dance its been to find balance. To manage being okay with where I am compared to where I want to be.

I don’t want to miss the journey in an attempt to get somewhere in the future. 

I’ve been looking back at how much of life I’ve already missed in wanting to escape to some future moment. All the fun I could have had if only I wasn’t trying to wish my way out of the present moment.

I went to a bonfire at the beach last night. While in conversation it was said to me, “Be happy where you are.” 

That is the secret. To be happy now while we journey, while we climb.

*image credit to google images

Mean

I said mean things to you and I’m sorry. Underneath I’m just so scared to tell you how I really feel because if you knew I loved you then you’d run.

I toss between giving in too much and holding back.

I hate being in this place. Of wanting so much to say I love you, mean it, show you, and have it be returned.

You say mean things to me too. You make me anxious. Nervous. And unsure of myself.

I can’t always tell if it’s coming from me or coming from you. If you’re the one who makes me feel this way or if it’s within me.

I was so happy at first. Thinking everything I’ve wanted I had found in such a magical, coinciding way.

And now I’m unsure. I don’t know. And I’m just sitting here feeling sad, lost, and confused.

Fall Short

I’m always thinking about how I fall short.

How you’d be better off if I were _____________

fill in the blank.

And I hate it. I hate that in the storm of your potential I find myself less than.

Because I’m so clouded by the bullshit that runs trough my own dark little head.

Ache

My head aches.

My body aches.

My heart aches.

My stomach aches.

My soul aches.

Was it one drink too many that eventually did it?

I’m tired of being the one who’s always wrong. Despite my every attempt it just seems like I’ll never be good enough for you. I’ll always be wrong. Always be not enough. Always be the crazy blonde girl who jumped on stage.

I don’t like who I see in the reflection mirrored in your eyes. There’s this distorted image of me. There’s me looking away because I can’t make any sense of why you’re staring at me.

Are you trying to figure out if you like me enough to stay? Have you made a decision? Will you ever?

My brain aches trying to decode your mixed messages.

I’m tired. I’m old.

I’m exhausted from overthinking. From trying to “figure it out.”

From wondering if you’re just waiting for someone else to come along so the “place holder” I’ve become can just be discarded like an over used tissue paper.

Actions speak louder than words. And all I hear you saying is “I care. But not enough.”

 

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑