June 18, 2012 § Leave a comment

I have been thinking that it would make a lot of sense for me to create a habit out of this and write a post a day. Major fail, I have not posted anything since I started bible panicking. I see no point in promising to do just that unless I am prepared to face the consequences. And let’s be honest, there are none, other than feeling fucking miserable for another year to come. I do not want to fail and I wish personal failures would motivate me as much as professional ones do. Sadly that is not the case. I seem to have a rare gift of neglecting my needs and desires when it comes to personal development, something I never expected to lose when I was growing up, wizening up.

It seemed so vital, so essential to write, to create, to be interested in something, to be developing the ‘me’ on a daily basis literally by finding a new book to read, a new opinion to dissect. And to share the products of this self-indulgent hobby (but it is not a hobby, really, it is a way of life, don’t you think? It is a way of life as going for a brisk walk over the weekend is, as visiting galleries and concerts to learn and be inspired is). Writing did that to me, it provided me with never-ending opportunities for self-discovery, self-discipline and self-preservation in a way. It’s a way of life and as all ways of life do, it stems from habit. Rekindling this habit is my goal now. Forget the consequences, focus on the beginnings.

As I look back, I saw that as the years went by, I noticed the sky did not fall on my child-sized head and I could continue existing without producing much more than a 5 minute chat on a daily basis, with a 10 word note left on the fridge, a thought here and there but nothing ground breaking, nothing out of the ordinary. And oh how I wished to be anti-average, anything but the ordinary, anyone other the person who was content with writing to-do and shopping lists but as it turns out, it is far easier to lose yourself than to find yourself again. It must have something to do with the fact that losing is an act much less conscious than finding is… and has always been.

The act of losing implies an accidental failure to retain a certain matter or meaning resulting in suffering. But how does one lose herself through accident? And why does one not realize that as it happens? You would notice your lost keys, your lost mind or memory…so why does that not apply to one’s essence? Soul? As it turns out, suffering the deprivation of me took years to accumulate and then finally witnessed itself in the way I looked, the way I spoke, the way I met and related to people (those I knew for years and those I came about to meet through random every day activities). People started to comment, friends disappeared, and after-work hours became home-hours filled with bath-time, kiddy books, and Lego blocks. The matter so easy to get lost in, the pattern was set. And so this is my desiderata now, to regain the lost in order to create the me.


No need to say I have no clue whatsoever how that is done. How Do I re-claim something I failed to contain when I had a grasp over it?



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