Quiet.
How deafening it can be at times. Generally, I slip into like a warm blanket. I pull it close and allow it to soothe my heart and mind. Tonight, it's like a wool sweater that is way too tight. It smothers me. It leaves me feeling uncomfortable and out of sorts. I try and fill it with music and meditation but I can still feel its presence.
I have been withdrawing inward for reasons that don't exactly add up to me. I sat in my living room earlier today and cried without provocation. This thirtieth birthday thing is fucking with me. It isnt' about the age/mortality thing...age is of no consequence to me. I'm happy that I've fought, tooth and nail, for my place in this world for the last thirty years. My place. There is the real issue. I'm not entirely okay with where I am and what I'm doing at this point in my life. I've never been one for setting limitations on my possibilities or making ridiculous and needless expectations or goals...I believe that my life will take shape daily and needs room for growth. However, I am human, and I had hoped for a smidge more.
I realize now, that it's all of my own doing. I haven't MADE what I want come to fruition. While I have changed some of the things about my life, like my marriage or my perspective on relationships and others,I still feel anchored to my current life by certain obligations.
I want to travel. My blood is on fire with the need of it. Then, fear rears its ugly head. Where will the money come from? What about my family? Friends? My dogs? My bills? The anchor hasn't budged in years and my soul is shackled to it.
I am seeing someone new, that is fantastic. We are indeed kindred spirits...and I am terrified of this. I worry that I will fuck it up. I worry that he will see me, all of me, and run screaming in the opposite direction. I worry about caring too much and appearing foolish. There seems to be something terribly interesting about me...for a little while. Years pass, and I'm left behind like so many childish things, a little more used up and cynical. Things have moved so slowly, like a tiny insect caught in honey. I start to feel things, and I pull back and hide. I am so scarred....and while I have found a path to peace through meditation and confession (in the form of blogging), I still have days, like this one, where I need to be alone and just sort out the bullshit that accumulates in my psyche. Can someone really understand this need without feeling slighted?
So. I sit, in the quiet and let it force my thoughts to come to the forefront. I hope that I am enough....that I will continue to grow and heal. I hope that I will be forgiven for days like this and that someday that I will not feel that forgiveness is necessary.
