I created this blog with the intention of devoting its entries to my academic research and political interests. Despite what the majority of this blog would indicate, I am actually very socially aware and even more willing to write about various socio-political issues. For whatever reason, though, every time I sit down to blog I can't seem to wrangle my thoughts - I've even tried notes and outlines but to no avail.
I'm almost certain that the reason for all of this has to do with the intense personal growth I have experienced in the last year of my life. I realized in the last couple weeks that I have done everything but truly acknowledge just how much my world has shifted beneath me - and the only way I am going to fully embrace change is to pull everything into the foreground.
Sometimes I lament the person that I used to be. Part of me wants to believe that we never shed skin completely and that we always have the potential to revisit any portion of a past persona. Whether or not we're able to make the conscious decision to recycle ourselves is something that I still ponder. And yet, there are times when I think that the reasons I want to go back are rooted in escapism. There is a fear that looms - that with every footstep ahead the ground becomes softer, the atmosphere is dense with fog and it'll be many hours before the sun rises again. I feel as if someone swept me off of my feet on a lovely date - a beautiful day of bliss - and then drove me to the middle of nowhere, pushed me out of the car and left me to find my way home. Suffice to say, it's a lonely feeling.
But the sort of, "meta-feeling" involved in all of this is that with the new (arguably improved) me, comes an annoying re-vamped realism - one that borrows from all half-full containers. Almost every aspect of my self-destructive nature has dissipated. I have learned to dust myself off like a champion, and stand up to fears that would've crippled me as little as a year ago. That may sound like sunshine and rainbows, but I assure you there's a catch. There's always a catch.
I still want to be weak. I still long for the escapism I used to be so good at - it was something I had perfected. It was the best defense mechanism and a damn fine survival tactic. If it hurts - run - far, far away until you make new memories that put old ones to shame. Re-define, restructure, recover. I've been running for as long as I can remember and because of it, I have never had time to actually grow. My person has never evolved because I kept forcing myself back to square one. Outward chaos was peaceful inside - and now for the sake of learning to accept and endure all of the hurdles, I suffer an internal hurricane while heading into the biggest endeavor of my life.
I hear the words "Be patient" echoing in my brain whenever I think about taking a step back. Patience is one of the hardest behaviors to harness for me - I'm a person who has always lived for the moment and inherently yearns for instant gratification. I'm not selfish, but I am assertive and I've had a rather consistent history of getting what I want, when I want it. Humility is very new to me - and I really don't like admitting that. What I do like is how human I feel whenever I realize that I'm genuinely humbled. I tell myself that with every day, there is an opportunity for improvement. If we want to be better, we have the capacity to do so.
I've come a long way in the last year, and I'm tired. I'm exhausted, but I think I've finally had the first glimpse of what I want out of life and I have no problem taking small, careful steps to realize it.
