I am constantly looking for the meaning behind the meaning for everything that happens in my life—every action, non-action, interaction, and interchange with someone or something in the universe.
This is the way my mind works. It is how it was trained. And reconditioning is a bitch.
Over the years, I have crossed paths with myriad people and places. I have learned to feel at home in many of these places and felt like a permanent stranger in others.
For much of my life, I have been a stranger to myself as well.
At the time, if you had asked me if I was self-aware, I would have likely responded in the affirmative. It was not until I had the benefit of hindsight to realize just how far from myself I had strayed.
A friend told me this morning, ““As Americans, we get on our deathbed and realize all of these trivial things we worried about and seemed so important during our lives really didn’t matter. Oh well, time to die.”
This was not a new concept. I am fully aware that the many mundane things I worry about in a day far outnumber the moments I spend appreciating all that I have to be thankful for. I am also aware that life is not a competition. In the end, I have only my own soul with which to contend; and love can take on many forms and does not depend on proximity.
One small nudge from the universe can send me spiraling into deep questions of self-worth, whether I am living up to my full potential, whether people who are far away still love me, and if those whose paths I crossed in times of difficulty will ever think of me as any less than a demon?
Last night, I felt sad and lonely, and this morning I felt much the same. I started thinking about the people in my life who were once as close to me as family but who followed paths that led them far away from me.
There disappearance from my everyday existence was something that took years for me to accept, and at times I still feel the pang of remorse and wonder what I did to cause them to abandon me in the wake of their new realities.
Of course, experience tells me that I likely had little to do with this perceived abandonment. People come in and out of my life just as the wind. I feel them strongly, and we dance, and then we continue on our separate ways.
I told my friend about these feelings of abandonment and wondering what I was doing with my life. He told me, “I feel angry and I feel ignored, and I am going to use those feelings to drive myself forward on my own path. I have this path I am on, and I need to be diligent about the things I want to accomplish. Maybe, I Anything that gets work out of me is good, though.”
We are talked about the difference between friends and friends in times of need.
He told me that sometimes people forget that you mean something to them and then they remember and come back to you.
In general, I try to hold onto those individuals who have given me permission to be myself, in good times and bad.
Perhaps, there is no such thing as real friends. We are all just people doing our own, individual dance with the universe. It is tricky enough trying to figure out my own dance without looking completely ridiculous and clumsy and bumping into things. Being in relationship, any kind of relationship, with other beings takes some work.
All I can do is feel what I feel and continue trying to send blessings to those who are far away in spirit or in body.
Maybe none of this means anything; maybe, it means everything. Or perhaps, it just is. I don’t have to do anything about this particular pain. I just have to be aware of it and notice it and carry on.
life of m 