Quitting the Race

ok i started to write, and then a good 500 words in, i deleted it all. i have a propensity towards beating around the bush, and jumping into the inessential, which is simply on the sideline of my problems, instead of facing “them” head on…. of course, the sidelines are like symptoms; while i suppose much of modern healing approaches do just that actually, treat the symptoms. lol. so it’s forgivable i suppose, i cannot assume to be better than my environment.

do you know the table cloth trick: when you yank the tablecloth in methodical speed, and all items stay put and never lose footing. i did that with my life. so the table is the world i live in, the cloth is my life context (both material and imperceptible aspects/notions of my life), and i am whatever item/s on that table i can be.

but i have no technique nor dexterity. so such items that i am have been jerked into the air.

some have fallen and shattered, others just rolled over upon meeting the ground, and many i think perhaps, are still in mid air.

so what fati? isn’t this a normal affair of life; change — whether it be subtle, sudden, intense, and/or eventual? why are you complaining?

sigh, i am not complaining, i’m just inspecting the situation.

no, you’re flustered, and agitated. you are perturbed.  

i’m confused! bloody hell if i can’t be, it’s normal, i’ve got pieces of me all over the place, what do you want of me, to be still and calm and accepting.

yes!!  you know the truth and reality of change, you have embarked on a journey seeking that very alteration of everything, of what you do, who you are, and where you’re headed, even what you believe, priorities, truths, facts, everything. have you not?

yes. (very meekly admitted)

so did you reckon that you’ll land on your feet and just walk on? really? is the tablecloth analogy even appropriate here? 

(lips pressed and sigh). no.

look sweetie, i don’t want to be harsh on you, and i really prefer not to role-play parent here. i am (you are) not such a fan of the harsh and tough love approach anymore, and you (we) now prefer kindness compassion and patience.. 

i am not expecting you to pick up the self and figure out the blueprint which you will mould from or perhaps towards..  

but for the love of god fati, you foolish darling girl, lol, stop being so harsh on yourself. stop with the urgency to ‘reach’. because it is as necessarily about the journey as it is the destination. i mean, come on, you know this already. 

:she sits in silence, contemplating the obvious, and feels rather witless now.

sigh. and then sigh. round and round and round, i do indeed, go.

life is about change, sometimes we seek it, sometimes it barges itself into our throat, “like it or not, swallow bitch” says the universe.

sigh. and again sigh. round and round and round i go, indeed i do.

it is not about managing the change, i’ve come to learn of late, or even about managing myself through this change.  it is more about letting go of wanting to manage anything all together.

this is all very nostalgic of all my intervals of depression, i suppose this is why i kept thinking i may be depressed, but enough of the depression check list was inapplicable here…

i am anxious because i don’t know myself anymore, i am sleeping and dining with a stranger. she is speaking my thoughts and taking over my life, and i’m running behind her trying to catch up, meanwhile she has left me behind. “stop running after me”, she says…

just lay down your defenses, shut down your motors, and cease.  see, my dear, I am already some years ahead of you, and if you are sincerely here for the long haul then be weary that if you are running already, still at the very start, then if and when you reach me, you will be worn and torn and done, and you will never become. 

be instead a spectator, be instead an observer only. and i promise that when the game is “over”, the bleachers and the field will be indistinguishable, they will be, one and the same.  

:she sits in her silence, she sits in her doubt, and maybe just maybe (we hope), the question marks while not disappearing fully, are starting to become at the very least, translucent.

About fatimasque

living for artimaginationcuriousity
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