Ongoing Blatherings

This is purely stream of consciousness. It was written in paragraphs over the course of several months. Weeks passed in between sentences. I curated my own words after the fact. Don't think too hard about it, it's not supposed to mean anything. This is purely stream of consciousness. 

The need to worry is an illusion. 

"What will happen if you let it go?" I'm not sure. I wait for the sounds of a crash, but there is nothing.

Echoes, perhaps, but I am not attached to them now. They flutter past as I stare ahead. We have an understanding.

My Krav instructor is always telling me that I'm overthinking everything, which makes sense, since Krav has become a convoluted metaphor for life. You have to react to punches as they come. You can't plan the whole thing out. Don't fall over. Keep breathing. Get back up. 

I find it comforting. 

I dislike the "no regrets" mantra. Regret can be a helpful reminder not to make terrible choices again. People have a lot of "self-love" when it comes to justifying terrible behavior. I want to push through. I don't want to keep spinning, spinning, spinning.

Days pass. Now I can see through to the other side, but I'm caught in the hazy, slow-motion universe in between. Forward, but slowly. My mind is quicker than my body.

How long were you in your cocoon?

Sometimes you absorb a massive amount of information in a very short amount of time. An hour, a week, a year. It's a meaningful time. All you can really do is keep your eyes open and watch. Be a sponge. If you're ready and prepared for the information, you can learn it with just a word. But don't waste the opportunity. You might not get another one. Time is not waiting for you. It doesn't care. It's already given you many chances. 

In a fantastical parallel universe, I have lots of energy. I smile endlessly, and I bound around from one amazing decision to the next. I leap from rooftop to rooftop.

I didn't take Robin Williams' suicide very well. For me this was sadder than your run-of-the-mill unexpected celebrity death. He struggled for a long time and then it got worse. It got *that bad.* You want to believe that there is relief at some point during life, but maybe there isn't. Maybe you just get stronger. I've experienced a lot of growth from the same situations that caused despair and sadness. Good and bad, it all redistributes over and over again, like chemicals in a sphere. 

I've had some of my brightest ideas in my darkest moments. Life is a little like throwing yourself off a mountaintop and hoping that you will fly. Or stick. Or that someone will catch you. The reward is in the risk, I guess. Even if disappointment lies on the other side, isn't it better to know? I'm afraid of wasting time; I am haunted by the time I've wasted. Heavy ghosts.

I've been having this vision of a man wearing a large, heavy medallion around his neck. He walks forward. It weighs exactly as much as he is able to carry without falling over -- and no less. The weight grows heavier as he grows stronger. It's supposed to be an honor to carry more weight, more responsibility. It means you have earned it. 

I don't know if I really believe that, but that's the vision I've been having. 

It's 6:51am. I've been up for hours. It's nice to be downstairs working instead of upstairs judging myself for being awake. I'm supposed to work with my flow. 

Sleep when you're tired. Eat when you're hungry. You never think you'll have to learn basic skills like that as a semi-functional adult. 

The sky gets brighter and my stomach gets louder and I ponder Irish breakfast tea or a nap. I'll end up doing both, because I was awake before the sun anyway and because I'm supposed to practice feeling deserving. 

The morning is quiet and beautiful.