assessment, atheism, born into reality, compassion, emotional vulnerability, emotional walls, freedom from religion, journaling, Meaning of life, reflection, religion, self analysis, self identifying, self-discovery, vulnerability, walls
Here I am opening up a blog with the rest of the world! While this is not my first blog, I feel like this is one that will really test my writings and thoughts. Previously having written on a site that had a large group that already followed my particular line of thought, I found these works popular. Now to see how much of a small fish in the sea I really am. Well, I think that is a given in all honesty, but I would like to reach out with my works to a larger audience. Many do not have the luxury of surfing sites that are clearly anti-religious in nature. There are chances of being discovered if still in the closet or anonymity might be nearly impossible to attain if the address so much as show up in the web history. That is why I decided to go with a location that is rather neutral at first look, thus offering a chance to read on my take as to religion and secular belief systems.
So, I was going through a bunch of writings from my high school newspaper days, and came across some of my journaling attempts from about fours years ago. Rereading earlier penned thoughts and essay is always a fun way to reflect on life and where you were in your state of being at the time. The backdrop for this particular entry I am sharing would be my having once again, for the gazillionth time, left my current special someone.
At this point, I had entered into a new relationship where I actually managed to fall in love and move past my times of emotional turmoil, only to find out I was in even more turmoil with my new self. Not so surprisingly, I have found myself in this type of turmoil many times before. I’ve also revisited the same level of self evaluation as far back as the age of twelve or so, pretty much along the same line of thought, only the situations would be different. Instead of a poor choice of a mate, it would be the actions of an abusive father or neglectful mother spurring me into these moments of reflection.
Many, upon reading this last paragraph, usually stop reading and decide that these experiences are exactly WHY I completely walked away from idol worship. I would encourage you to not stop reading. The fact is, until my 26th year on this planet, I held some level of belief in a higher power. If it weren’t for the supposed care of this all knowing being, I would have gone through my earlier suicide attempts. If it weren’t for the guilt of failure of not meeting His divine expectations, I would have not bothered to evaluate who I was and what my situation needed improving on. Basically, I have little doubt that much of my lack of faith is due to this larger thinking of what my own contribution to the problem was, and my failure to satisfy a deity eventually fell out of the equation since it was blatantly inconsequential to my situation.
So here is one of those periods where I really thought about who I was as an individual and where I might fit, and if I would even allow myself to experience that fit.
I’ve been feeling alone even with company close at hand. Maybe this is because over the past few months I have had short term purposes, and when around my children and family, and friends, I focus on their purposes instead? Purposely avoiding my own it would seem. But as I lay to sleep at night, or drive to work with the cloudy display of incoming storm fronts meeting my soaked thoughts, I have time to clear my cluttered mind and consider my own life, my own desires, my own ultimate purpose…. I am hit with this overwhelming presence of the world, and I have no idea where my little thumbtack on the map will manage to land, let alone be seen.
I am lonely in such thoughts.
Most notably so when there are not any blaring detours from the lives of others overlapping in to my very own.
I think I have reached a point of happening. I can go for these long term agendas with an avarice I only daydreamed about. Yes, I can start my journalism now. Yes, I can pursue all my creative media hobbies unfettered for once. I can be me again and let myself be wholly involved in this map of destiny instead of hapless running around with my compass locked away for emergency use only. I don’t have to ration myself out anymore, and ironically, I think this is where I feel the most alone. Like a child entering dance class for the first time, but a few minutes late so everyone that has already gotten with the program will see how awkwardly you stand out.
I’ve held back for so long! My cover comes easily now. My defensive trappings slip on so instinctively, I don’t know how to change my designer’s taste. I automatically grab the right hat to compliment the outfit without so much as a look in the mirror.
I have been told I am an old soul though. When engaging conversation with anyone, there is an immediate connection, no matter who they are. There is an empathic nerve straight from my heart to the human in front of me. The desire to embrace their company and ideas does not fall on deaf ears, but eventually, when it truly gets personal, I fill the moat surrounding the castle of my vulnerabilities with all types of devices. It has been an appreciated skill, and it is truly who I am, but that plays off the cuff with the subversive intent of seeking information to help keep me unattainable. Impregnable. Unrecognizable.
It’s like I am constantly on stage, waiting for my close up, but when that close up occurs, will I actually appear on the tape? Or will it be yet another shade of my stunt double?