Nova
Member
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2015
- Messages
- 93
"Life is not what you see, but what you've projected. It's not what you've felt, but what you've decided. It's not what you've experienced, but how you've remembered it. It's not what you've forged, but what you've allowed. And it's not who's appeared, but who you've summoned. And this should serve you well, beloved, until you find, what you already have." - Notes From The Universe
The quote above parallels nicely with some of the discussion in the "Positivity Is Making Us Ill" thread, IMO.
Realism is what I see, the obvious and the ugly. That's not life. Life is what I project. Life is vision, I suppose. Decisions shape vision and also bring about a new reality. The oldest "trick" in the book is focus on what you feel, as if emotion is any decent guide to living. A million times, you feel one way, run with it, find yourself in a jam, and suddenly, the all-important feeling is gone. What then? It's time to make a decision.
Experiences are only memories and it is entirely possible that what we remember isn't accurate. Memories are easily corrupted by emotion. Allowance vs. forging, well, I'm not so sure there. Some things we have to allow, submission is but a fact of existence for most creatures. We don't control the show any more than the next air-sucking meatsack does. Do you go with the flow...or do you swim against the tide?
Appearing vs. summoning...that seems a lot like magical thinking to me. Then again, maybe we do attract certain energies, certain people, certain opportunities, if only we focus our intentions and align them with our visions.
I'm searching for myself. When will I find me?
********************
I had a sobering thought the other day. One of those split-me-open type thoughts that would have sent me into a depression spiral a short time ago.
Thanksgiving, I saw a cousin whom I haven't seen in years. This particular cousin and I were close when we were younger. We had a serious falling out in 2009 and haven't spoken since then. I knew that she had gotten heavily into drugs during the last 6-7 years. She lost herself in the needle. She also lost custody of her son, lost her nursing license, and just got out of a psych ward.
I saw her...and somehow, my heart broke. Out of all of the people in my family, I thought that she would be one of the few to make it out of the darkness, at some point.
I'm the only one of my generation, out of my sisters and cousins...to not become a hardcore drug addict or alcoholic. I'm the only one who hasn't done time in jail, prison or psychiatric facilities. I'm the only one who has ever tried to do anything with my life (not that I've done much, but I'm trying to change that.)
It's sad in a way that I cannot explain. It's not that my heart hurts for them and their children. My heart does hurt...but it's deeper than that. To be set apart, is a deeper form of pronounced loneliness than most others.
I've always known that I was different. How different, I could not measure and no words could define. I just knew it. I wondered why I never got into the drug/party lifestyle. Why did I avoid and escape, when they did not? I live my life knowing that I will never have relationships with any of them. The people I grew up with, shared my youth with...they are the walking dead to me. Nothing there except the brokenness laid bare for the world to see.
They let the pain turn to suffering and now they are rotting, waiting to die. Morose, I know, but true. I hope that they can escape, but in my heart, I know that most of them will be dragged under and will drown in a pool of their own sorrows.
*********************
Part of my vision is building a life apart from my family. Making my own family-of-sorts. My family did this for as long as I can remember. We always had "aunts" and "uncles" and "cousins" staying with us. My parents would let our friends stay for as long as they needed, no questions asked. It was nothing to share a room, or even a bed, with someone. I was quite used to it. Honestly, I find it strange to sleep alone. Depressing, almost. Which is probably why I let my giant mutt sleep in bed with me.
Some part of me wants to rescue the younger ones. I want them to know that our family isn't completely screwed up. That we all have the ability to choose a different path in life. I don't want them to fall into the traps of emotion and following bad examples that lead them into chaotic addictions and complex dances with the justice system. That's all that they see now. Six year olds shouldn't know lyrics like this:
"Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out
Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out
We used to play pretend, give each other different names
We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away
Used to dream of outer space but now they're laughing at our face
Saying, "Wake up, you need to make money"
Yeah"
My six year old nephew does. The song came on the radio when we were driving and he was like "TURN IT UP!!!" He sang the whole thing and there was a lot of conviction in his tiny voice. I almost started crying. I know that he and his brothers have a hard life. My sister has battled with various drug addictions for 15-16 years at this point. Her sons have paid for that in different ways.
The six year old is the only one who is "normal". His brothers have disabilities. My sister is much harder on the six year old because he's not, expects him to help with his brothers all of the time. I know that this makes him very sad and probably stresses him out. That's why I tried so hard to make the time that he and his brothers spent with me over the summer, fun. It was supposed to be a vacation for them, I thought. And I wanted so badly to take them all of those cool, fun places, do all sorts of stuff with them. Stuff that they'll never get to do because my sister isn't capable of providing opportunities for them.
*******************
So I suppose all of the above, is what drives me. My journey isn't all about me, it's about something beyond me.
As always, vibe on.
The quote above parallels nicely with some of the discussion in the "Positivity Is Making Us Ill" thread, IMO.
Realism is what I see, the obvious and the ugly. That's not life. Life is what I project. Life is vision, I suppose. Decisions shape vision and also bring about a new reality. The oldest "trick" in the book is focus on what you feel, as if emotion is any decent guide to living. A million times, you feel one way, run with it, find yourself in a jam, and suddenly, the all-important feeling is gone. What then? It's time to make a decision.
Experiences are only memories and it is entirely possible that what we remember isn't accurate. Memories are easily corrupted by emotion. Allowance vs. forging, well, I'm not so sure there. Some things we have to allow, submission is but a fact of existence for most creatures. We don't control the show any more than the next air-sucking meatsack does. Do you go with the flow...or do you swim against the tide?
Appearing vs. summoning...that seems a lot like magical thinking to me. Then again, maybe we do attract certain energies, certain people, certain opportunities, if only we focus our intentions and align them with our visions.
I'm searching for myself. When will I find me?
********************
I had a sobering thought the other day. One of those split-me-open type thoughts that would have sent me into a depression spiral a short time ago.
Thanksgiving, I saw a cousin whom I haven't seen in years. This particular cousin and I were close when we were younger. We had a serious falling out in 2009 and haven't spoken since then. I knew that she had gotten heavily into drugs during the last 6-7 years. She lost herself in the needle. She also lost custody of her son, lost her nursing license, and just got out of a psych ward.
I saw her...and somehow, my heart broke. Out of all of the people in my family, I thought that she would be one of the few to make it out of the darkness, at some point.
I'm the only one of my generation, out of my sisters and cousins...to not become a hardcore drug addict or alcoholic. I'm the only one who hasn't done time in jail, prison or psychiatric facilities. I'm the only one who has ever tried to do anything with my life (not that I've done much, but I'm trying to change that.)
It's sad in a way that I cannot explain. It's not that my heart hurts for them and their children. My heart does hurt...but it's deeper than that. To be set apart, is a deeper form of pronounced loneliness than most others.
I've always known that I was different. How different, I could not measure and no words could define. I just knew it. I wondered why I never got into the drug/party lifestyle. Why did I avoid and escape, when they did not? I live my life knowing that I will never have relationships with any of them. The people I grew up with, shared my youth with...they are the walking dead to me. Nothing there except the brokenness laid bare for the world to see.
They let the pain turn to suffering and now they are rotting, waiting to die. Morose, I know, but true. I hope that they can escape, but in my heart, I know that most of them will be dragged under and will drown in a pool of their own sorrows.
*********************
Part of my vision is building a life apart from my family. Making my own family-of-sorts. My family did this for as long as I can remember. We always had "aunts" and "uncles" and "cousins" staying with us. My parents would let our friends stay for as long as they needed, no questions asked. It was nothing to share a room, or even a bed, with someone. I was quite used to it. Honestly, I find it strange to sleep alone. Depressing, almost. Which is probably why I let my giant mutt sleep in bed with me.
Some part of me wants to rescue the younger ones. I want them to know that our family isn't completely screwed up. That we all have the ability to choose a different path in life. I don't want them to fall into the traps of emotion and following bad examples that lead them into chaotic addictions and complex dances with the justice system. That's all that they see now. Six year olds shouldn't know lyrics like this:
"Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out
Wish we could turn back time, to the good old days
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out
We used to play pretend, give each other different names
We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away
Used to dream of outer space but now they're laughing at our face
Saying, "Wake up, you need to make money"
Yeah"
My six year old nephew does. The song came on the radio when we were driving and he was like "TURN IT UP!!!" He sang the whole thing and there was a lot of conviction in his tiny voice. I almost started crying. I know that he and his brothers have a hard life. My sister has battled with various drug addictions for 15-16 years at this point. Her sons have paid for that in different ways.
The six year old is the only one who is "normal". His brothers have disabilities. My sister is much harder on the six year old because he's not, expects him to help with his brothers all of the time. I know that this makes him very sad and probably stresses him out. That's why I tried so hard to make the time that he and his brothers spent with me over the summer, fun. It was supposed to be a vacation for them, I thought. And I wanted so badly to take them all of those cool, fun places, do all sorts of stuff with them. Stuff that they'll never get to do because my sister isn't capable of providing opportunities for them.
*******************
So I suppose all of the above, is what drives me. My journey isn't all about me, it's about something beyond me.
As always, vibe on.