I've recently shared old blogs, and whenever I do, I have to OCD re-read them, because I forget what kinds of little morsels are contained in their paragraphs. I am filled with a mixture of remorse for sharing, and remorse for some of the experiences, and then I come full circle and always find some really beautiful sentiment, or sentence, or phrase...and I'm proud I had the balls to share...and dig deep...and that I have tried so hard to be self aware. Even in my most ridiculous, short sighted, overly emotional posts...I was myself.
They are mile markers. They are progress. They are growth. I remember being that wounded person, burning alive in the turmoil and confusion. Bleeding it all out onto pages. I find it beautiful because it's all so full of truth, it's my past, and a part of me. But I don't feel like I'm burning alive anymore. I don't feel confused. I know exactly what I want out of this life. I know the strengths I need to give myself credit for, and every time I use my strength...I just get stronger. I know my weaknesses, and I know that when I am resting on them it won't take long for me to become completely miserable. I know exactly what to do when I become completely miserable..and eventually I do it.
I believe that searching for bliss is a sweet thought, best explored when all you need is what you want. But now that I'm here, with all my needs being met, searching for more just feels like creating problems in my mind that aren't even there. I love my job. I adore my kids and they are happy and healthy. I spend a larger than life amount of my free time doing exactly what I want to do. Playing hard, reading books, laughing, floating, dancing, singing along and just talking about life. So far from perfect, but I'm so ok with that. All I need..is what I want. No regrets, even though I took the terribly tragic, scenic route to get here. I remember being this person too, before all the hurt, betrayal, and destruction sent me on it's wild ride; quietly ok, and well...happy.
I’ve spent too long away from home
Did all the things I could have done
Gone are the days of endless thrills
I know I’m not the only one
So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…
I saw the streets all ripe with jewels
Balconies and the laundry lines
They tried to make me welcome there
But their streets did not feel like mine
So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…
I want the sun to hit my face
Through oak trees in the open lot
Forget about the things you want
Be thankful for what all you got
So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…
-Dan Auerbach
No comments:
Post a Comment