Friday, September 8, 2017

Hiatus

I've taken a hiatus from writing for at least two years. The reasoning behind that eludes me but there is a very clear sense of longing for the clarity that writing once brought me, but not just clarity - a real sense of understanding of myself. This understanding, which was captured through writing, promoted itself through a confidence in being alive - it was through the contemplation of thought itself that brought me to a level of comfort and contentedness with simply being that is unmistakably beautiful and serene its benefits.

I suppose the major reason was my occupation, coupled with a harsh breakup, simply shifted my focus and priorities to the external, rather than untangling the mess of wires on the internal side.

If there is one thing that I have learned since that my old writing, it is that a stubbornness in patience resolves nearly every problem. My immediate fear when I first contemplated this when I was much younger - the idea that 'time cures all ails' - was that it was a lie, that time only cures all ails because

  1. You simply forget what your original problem actually meant
  2. You patch up the problems with layers of false hopes, and meaningless mumbles
and while these may be partially true in some sense, the reason that time cures all ails is because all ails are only temporary, and that fear truly is the only effector of our mental state.

Thus, me being an impatient person, have turned out to be one of the most patient people when addressing existential crises, anxieties, and fears, for it really is only my ability to continually and constantly pass fears to the side no matter how prevalent, constant, and testing of my patience.

My new hurdle in life is deciding if new desires trump the old, seemingly native ones. Those ideas that used to define me for being me, what I deemed 'native'. In 1st grade my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. We had to draw a relevant picture and write a paragraph. Essentially what I drew was a glass dome in space, with some trees, and of course me. My desire when I was young was to get in a biosphere, blast off into space forever.

As I grew up I realized I loved people, and I loved Earth, changing my desire from exploring space (at admittedly an unthinkably slow pace), to surrounding myself with plants in an Earth-bounded greenhouse, and trying to stay relatively self-sustainable there.

Now, however, I have become infatuated with science and learning. I want to understand how people think in different realms of thought across academic and professional fields. I find the idea of human-constructed regulations and rules and genuine human thought incredibly engaging. I am simply interested in human thought, and part of me wants to become good at it. This is in stark contrast to my 'native' thoughts - I generally thought humans were foolish, stupid, and really just not worth learning about. However, perhaps this was an ail, or perhaps just simply a stubborn outlook on life.

My life is still split, however, in trying to identify some true calling that I have been raised to believe is somehow in my DNA, or my spirit, versus that which seems external to me yet compelling. Do I listen to the body, or do I listen to the pull? Is the external world's pull just a reflection of my own internal, yet separated, desires? Or is the external pull similar to that of wanting sugary foods, or lots of money - something that is destined for long term damage, while providing short term relief?

To be completely honest, I wish I could do both simultaneously. Just as many wish at times that they had an extra pair of arms, I wish I had an extra parallel life. There is so much to experience on Earth, and my notion that I'd like to experience it all is near-sighted, at best, but most certainly naive.

At any rate, writing in this blog space was oddly brought up by someone I recently met, and I thought that putting some words down again would be useful and beneficial. I know they are, but are they a priority?

Another interesting thing happened. In order to write here, I had to log into my old email account tied to this blog. I had two emails, (one nearly a year old), that addressed extremely old writings. The two emails were thank you letters for helping one person with what they describe as insanity, and another person just a thank you and appreciation letter for writing. These were interesting finds, for sure, and those alone were worth the logging back in.

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