Work in Progress

Finally it's here. I feel it like a ton of bricks falling down on my head. I feel it like the first depressing rainfall of the winter. You know what I'm talking about. The one that forces you to stay inside, even though you're dying to go outside and run around like a chicken with your head cut off, although you probably wouldn't anyway if the weather were perfect. It doesn't really matter though. The fact of the matter is that the rain is there. It's stopping you from all the things you could be doing, and that's annoying. But is it really the rain that's stopping you? Is it the rain that has trapped you, or is it your inability to cope with reality? I've been wondering that myself for a long time. It's strange how little we think of our abilities to make things happen, until we are left with seemingly no other choice than to make them happen ourselves. Blame seems to be put outside our realm of being, on something or someone that is unable to defend itself, just so we don't have to admit that we have the power to change the situation and make it better ourselves. Where do we draw the line? When do we say "enough is enough" and go on with our lives in a more productive fashion? I suppose we only come to that conclusion after we lose everything that really matters to us.

What is the importance of being alive? Is there some cosmic reason we are breathing and walking around this earth? Is there some reason to be found that connects us all together? Other than pain? Is love a factor in our search for knowledge and truth? Is our search sincere, furthermore, why do we seek the answers in the first place? I ask myself these questions all the time, often coming to the same conclusion, with the same set of reasoning skills. We search because we long for more. We search because we know the answers are not within ourselves, and we reject because we fear we are not right. It's as though we're constantly fighting with something, stopping ourselves from finding the truth.

There is a deep longing within each of us to be more than we are, and we can be. There is a way. We must acknowledge our potential and lead ourselves into the future. No one can do it for us. No one can hold our hand, if we truly do want to become more. It is a long and hard road full of not only mundane cliches and bad poetry, but also of love and acceptance that we find along the way. There is no such thing as a life without pain. It's what we were called to feel so that we might humble ourselves like Christ has done for us. It's a concept of love that is hard to grasp for most of us, and when we do, the execution is elusive. By the time we understand what it means to love without reason, we find ourselves trapped in the body of someone who can't get away from their condition and hear death knocking on our door. It seems as though we waste much of our lives searching for more, when it's already here. We just have to reach out and embrace it. Life is a terminal disease that will drain us if we let it. The key is to surrender to love and let that be our strength.

The question as to where do we find love and will we recognize it when we find it, rings through our minds quite often. Our inabilty to cope with our own reality often makes it difficult to imagine someone else entering into ours. Why is that? If we all know that we want love, and the ultimate goal is to surrender to it, and allow it to take over our being, then why do we reject it so often? Why do we look to others for the answers that we can't find in ourselves, then dismiss their responses as being uncaring, unkind and utterly disappointing? Is it because we are asking the wrong people, or is it because we are asking the wrong questions?

Do you love me? Can you take care of me? Do you see something good within me that makes me feel useful? Can you tell me why I feel worthless? Is there a reason why I don't have a soul mate? Am I worthy of love?

Which one of you can answer these questions for me, off the top of your head? These are the questions going through my mind as I am writing this. Even now, manipulation plays a part of this. It seeps into everything I do. It allows you to feel sorry for me, and begin to think about what you can do to help. There is nothing you can do to help. It's all within my abilities to fix this feeling of loneliness. I've made my choices and now I have to choose whether or not I want to roll around in them and wallow in self pity, or if I want to stand up, brush off the dirt and continue on with my life. There is no other choice. I have two and neither one is very easy.