White Space

1/31/12

Change is unglamorous. Especially when you have to struggle really, really hard but pretend you've got it all together on the outside.

Recognizing that change is difficult, is a good first step. I'm reminding myself that while I must be my own worst critic, I have to be my own best lover and supporter too. Narcissistic as that sounds, no one else can get into your head and rub the spot where it hurts. That sounds a bit like an abusive relationship, actually -- the abuser and the comforter being one and the same. But that's how change feels like to me. All day I bang into mistakes, faux pas; get bitten by insecurities; worn down by weariness; slap myself awake again -- and at the end of the night, I let myself slow down and get angry and cry and get myself tissues and finally collapse in a puddle of placated, if not blissful, weariness. And the next morning I wake up and start over again.

When life is this open, this good, it seems almost disgusting to complain or to ever be unhappy in the slightest. But we all struggle, we struggle because there is no central cause to rally our lives around except narcissistic self-improvement. (Social justice? But how will you live on that?) In the end it circles around me, me, me. We are afraid to be our own masters. We need to be praised like children and given rewards for good behavior. FTS.

More reflections: in the developed world, we've confused what needs and wants are. We neglect needs like sleep, good nutrition, friends, family -- and satisfy unlimited wants that are often destructive. Truth be told, we need much less to live to our fullest potential, than we say we need. All the rest, it's just window dressing and higher heels.

(Note: Upon rereading, this post sounds like an angry, unfocused rant. Pardon the less-than-perfect writing. Hey, we all need to cut loose in our own way.)