'kay, so i was driving home and thinking inside my brain. you see, i kind of have this running monologue inside my head, addressed to my blog. there's lots of things i think about writing on my blog. usually they make it because i have a notepad in my purse that goes with me EVERYWHERE. i call it my brain, because it never forgets anything and thus remembers everything for me. i began using (and collecting, lol) brains years and years ago after reading a quote from einstein that basically said "why bother remembering anything when you can write it down?" or something to that effect.
and me, with my wonderous memory famous throughout the land for how much it doesn't work, went "AHA!" and began writing down any and everything. i have grocery lists from over ten years ago, dude. that's, like, a freakin' amazing memory...
anyway, unfortunately nothing i think of at work or driving actually makes it, because both my hands are occupied either grooming dogs and making them purtiful, or actually driving. back when i drove an automatic it was still somewhat possible to take short, efficient notes while on the highway. however, the funkmobile is a standard, hence no notes in my brain.
but what i'd thought of for the blog was actually quite wonderful. it was something to the effect of how i was thinking about all these life lessons i've learned and am continuing to learn, and how they're meaningless unless you can actually put them to practical application in your life. about how the entire point of life is actually applying them, and the challenge thereof because of something i'd mentioned only a few days ago: the human heart.
the human heart is so filled with its own things that get folded into the batter that makes up the cookie dough that is ourselves and, yes, while this always is supposed to "make life all the richer," sometimes it's a pain in the ass because you know it's not part of the recipe.
and as everyone knows, whenever you deviate from the recipe, there's no predicting the flavor of the end result.
and going with the whole food-baking-our-unfinished-selves analogy, did you know that my spaghetti sauce comes out tasting exactly the same every time? and that i find it a source of pride that this is so? and yet i always have to change up the noodles. what does that say about me?
but isn't the point of life facing the challenges of putting those lessons to active use in your life? and the human experience is the texture and flavor as you try to figure out just how the fuck to do that. there will be confusion, and struggle, and pain, and heartache, and overwhelming moments, and frustration. the measure of success is how you work through it, and just that you work through it at all...not in succeeding in avoiding the challenges. if you've got smooth sailing all the way, baby, either you're a bodhisattva already (and if you are, stop making us look bad!) or you're just not doing it right.
but godsdammitalltohell, i'm just so damn confused. i feel like i'm doing it all wrong and failing at every turn. and, i'm sorry, but i'm just not enlightened or evolved enough, i guess, to feel joy and celebration that i've been freed of the shackle of the preconceived notion of a lifelong dream. no, i just feel bitter and resigned. the life challenges, the pain, and the loss will be mine to bear alone, and my bed will be forever cold. it's stupid to feel the pain of losing something i never had, but it hurts just the same.
and it strikes me as odd. i am a witch, and we hold in the highest regard the concept of free will, and the power of choice. after all, it is power, magic, and wisdom that are borne of thoughts, and it is our thoughts which shape the multiverse and define our realities. there is no greater magic than to be able to change your mind. someone --many someones-- told me i was meant for something greater, and what was Theirs to have (i.e. "the masses") was not necessarily mine. richard even spoke of Them with a measure of scorn, rats running mindlessly on a wheel, living their lives for no purpose until they died never having grown or even imagined the things we saw and contemplated on a daily basis. this scorn always bothered me, and i could never see anything wrong with their beautifully simple, pedestrian lives. why would i want that, he would ask me, when i was meant for so much more?
and so it seems the universe is also asking me this question, and always putting the same lesson in my path until i learn or realize that careerlovemarriagechildren is not for me. i feel like i'm being forced to cry 'uncle.' and yet...do i not have free will? can i not choose to walk away from the "something greater" and choose the provincial, pedestrian life filled with nothing more than going to work, loving a husband, and raising beautiful, loving chilren who have my nose and their father's complexion?
if we truly have the power to be anything, to do anything in this world, and if when we are born we are gifted with the vast potential of infinity, what is wrong with choosing modest, unambitious, suburban americana?
i don't have the answers. this post wasn't about answers, anyway. it was about the neverending current of thought-flotsam and the detritus of philosophical musings tainted with despair and loss and an overwhelming sense of defeat. and yet, i have this urge to remind you, my dear beauty and truth fans, that apparently, by all signs, i'm still succeeding because at least i'm facing and dealing with my challenges, not avoiding them.
success can fucking bite me, if that's the case.