Feeling

Somewhere, Out There

October 12, 2010

Today’s horoscope suggested that, when having trouble expressing myself, I turn to art. I have yet to do that exactly, but I did take myself out for coffee and start my new journal. This came my way while journaling: If I appreciated my life and myself, wouldn’t I treat it / me better?

Um… what?

There is a tension in me that says something like that all.the.time (again, bit of trouble expressing myself today). It says, “You are not doing enough with your life, what a terrible waste of potential you are!” and the other says, “You need to appreciate what you have and be happy with the life you’ve been given”. Guilt for not doing enough or guilt for not being happy that I already have enough.

Where does this shit come from?

And talk about mixed signals. Those churning thoughts above were mixed with the lovely sentiment from DreamLab today – that my life is this amazing thing just waiting for my loving hands.

“…your one precious life. If you dare to love it, to hold it with kind regard even, you will do it no harm.”

And I asked myself: How can I loving hold my life in my hands? A flood of feeling came back of being a passionate and emotional 16 yr old, someone who knew what she wanted and yet felt such chaos. Someone who knew that living her life would do it no harm. The person I was before everything felt too difficult to feel anymore.

photo-2

No I feel like I just don’t get it. I’m here. My life is wonderful. But I’m upset every day for my lack of contribution. Depressed because I have no community. Upset because I want a fuller, more meaningful life.

There must be a place somewhere for me. Some type of deep involvement to be created or found via writing, creating, and connecting with other people and their stories. Something that isn’t so shallow or boring. Some way that I can make a difference.

There’s gotta be a way.

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1 Comment

  • Reply Counter-Productive « Allowing Myself December 3, 2010 at 8:43 am

    […] I am a miracle, fine. I survived childhood cancer, yes, but we’re all miracles. And how the hell did my upbringing convince me otherwise? And what’s worst is – regardless if I’m perfect (which no one is) I still believe I’m not enough. […]

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