Existential Crisis

I’ve spent my entire adolescence and the remainder of my youth running from myself. It’s a race I lost, because I keep finding myself waiting for me at the finish line. She stands there with an omniscient air about her, as if she already knew I was coming and that I would be surprised, but relieved to see her. She embraces me. She weeps with me. She reassures me. She sends me off again. Each time knowing, exactly where I will end up and stands there waiting for me to arrive. She is not me, for I am but a shadow of my former self. She is who I no longer am and who I long to be, once again. She is grace, beauty, strength, and knowledge. I am abounding insecurities, succumbing weaknesses, and questioning intellect. She is innocence and experience. She is the starting point and the finish line. I am lost, somewhere along the way.

i have come to realize that i put myself in compromising situations.  i act without thinking through the outcomes of my actions and somehow expect that things will work out.  they usually do, but at some point i have to start being more proactive about my life.  i have to stop thinking about my hopes, dreams and ambitions as lofty goals that may or may not be reached and begin to see them as actual outcome based on a sequence of specific actions.  maybe i need to have a little more faith in myself.  perhaps it has more to do with belief in my abilities or my general lack thereof.  i do well to help others to realize their potential, to achieve their goals, but there is a part of me that is either afraid of failure or afraid of success that i prefer to sideline my own desires.  maybe that’s it.  it very well could be that for most of my life i have been taught to shy away from the attention, turn my back on the spotlight that what i fear most is not failure (for failures happen every day) but success.  if i were to actually succeed-to accomplish my goals, dreams and ambitions-what then would i do?

i sometimes worry that i’ve already made my life too complicated.  i’ve indebted myself too much to too many things that really were not worthwhile.  i’ve spent time, effort and energy on things that no longer matter and never really did at all.  i’d really like to walk away from it all because i know that the Things that i have acquired are inconsequential.  but, to walk away now means that i can never return and i’m not good with finality.

yesterday evening i didn’t feel too well so i went to bed a bit earlier than usual (which means i was in bed before 7pm). i knew that going to sleep would mean i would be awake just after midnight ready to start my day and tired again before it actually began.  i found a novel i didn’t know i owned.  it was the type of book i generally would not read.  i’m not trying to come across as a literary snob because i am a fan of chic lit, but i oftentimes reconcile the genre as a modern reflection of the 19th century novels by women.  at any rate, there i was in bed reading a graphic ghetto novel.  by the third chapter i was entranced.  the writing style was basic, but that made it so much easier for me superimpose myself and my concept of the characters as i read.  by 11pm i lay the book back on the shelf smiling at the predictable but heartwarming ending.  i had laughed out loud and several times felt the tears welling up in my eyes.  i would not say this was the best novel i’d ever read, but last night i was moved by it.  maybe it had as much to do with my own life as it did the story as i could see parts of myself–my past, present and future–in the young heroine.  regardless, it was a reminder of why i love to read.  the joy i get from deeply submerging myself in the text and becoming something more that i ever imagined i could be is inexplicable.  within the finely crafted literature my life has intertwined with historical figures and fictional characters.  most importantly it is through the reflections of them that i learn more about myself and begin to see not only who i am, but who i long to be…

i once held firmly to the belief that we are all destined for greatness and the choices we made during our lifetimes would determine whether or not our destiny would be fulfilled.  at some point in my life i stopped believing in myself.  instead of seeking my own path-that which would lead to my fulfillment of dreams-i chose to become a facilitator of others dreams a catalyst towards their greatness.  sometimes i feel as though i should be satisfied with helping others.  for as long as i can remember i was taught that to helping someone else is infinitely better than being selfish and just doing for yourself.  i have to admit…i’m not happy.  and, worst of all, i feel guilty for not being happy about it.  i want to be happy with myself because without that i will never be happy with someone else.  i need to reevaluate my current road and reconfigure my GPS to lead me back onto my own path towards greatness

in a conversation with a friend today i realized that i have had little interest in meeting anyone new (although it would be nice to have some human interaction on occasion) because i’m been taking the time to date myself.  over the last 7 years i’ve been involved in “relationships” that made it easy for me to lose myself.  now, i’m taking the time to find out what it is that i truly love, what my favorite things are, where i see myself in 5 or 10 years, what moves me, what makes me cry, and whatever else it is i would normally want to know about someone else.  i know that i love myself, but i want to be in love with myself–not to the point of complete narcissism, but enough that i can allow someone else to love me without being dependent upon it.

that said, i am still accepting dinner invitations because a girl still has to eat!