September 23, 2012 § 54 Comments
I have been away. Not in the ordinary sense. Away as in disconnected from my sense of self. Lost.
Last night was the worst. I awoke in the dark with a rock sure sense of my unworthiness. This blog, this book idea, this whole thing- all a big hoax. I had nothing to say, really. What was the point of it all? I composed in my head the final post, called it “Done.” Thinking the pain would subside once I embraced my unworthiness.
Somehow I returned to sleep and awoke this morning feeling different. Like a fever had broken. The doubt and fear weren’t washed away but I thought- when the darkness has run its course, it will go. You will find the strength again and carry on.
Struggle, I now understand, comes to me in two ways. When great loss comes, or when my busy lethal mind beckons, I feel the battle rise. But I am aware and ready. I know that I will falter. But I also know who I am. This is good struggle.
But when I lose my sense of self, it’s different. Nothing but the demons of anxiety and self-loathing battling against my blunt desire to be free of those horrors, a desire for relief in any form, at any cost. In this battle, no peace can exist for me- only numbness.
Before the fever broke this morning, I was in the pit of bad struggle. Fighting a battle that I could never win as I wasn’t really there.
Good struggle, even in its most daunting moments, is a great blessing. A reminder that we are here- fully conscious of our self- seeking that way of being that is the great treasure. A struggle that never ends and never should.