That four letter word...

It's been a while, and I must admit it would have been longer had I not made a conscious effort to make an attempt at writing something. I guess I was scared that by writing what I am about to, I would cross a threshold in this here web journal of mine. A point of no returns so to speak. It's kind of ironic that what lies at the root of my reluctance is what has caused me to open up in ways I had never dreamed possible. To put it bluntly, that often indescribable, increasingly commercial, totally under/overrated and grossly misused four letter word has crept past all of my outer social and emotional defenses and taken root at the very core of my soul. I know, up until this point I have spared you of the ordinary and admittedly mushy ideas that this four letter word brings to mind and I intend to continue to keep this journal that way...for the most part at least. I just thought that to avoid including this into the stockpile of feelings and beliefs that I have accumulated here over the months would be a horrible injustice to the very idea, ideal and ideology of this four letter word. So here goes:

It's amazing to me how much one particular word can be used so frequently and unthoughtfuly and yet still retain all of its meaning when its power is finally and truly recognized. And the miraculous thing is, the realization of its flagrant misusage does not even touch the very tips of the fabric of ones awareness until he or she understands or feels it for what it truly is. What is even more amazing, (at least in my case) is the ability for this word to beseech me to take into account all of the times I have used it prior, only to distinctly conclude that my usage of it was in the right direction but in the wrong vicinity.

The crazy thing is I know that no matter how far in depth my explanations attempt to plunge, they are fated to merely skim the surface as far as this word is concerned. It seems to me to be one of those ideas that one could spend his or her entire life studying and eventualy die with the the realization that not even the beginning inquires had been completed. It boggles the mind and eludes common (and often uncommon) perception. It asks for nothing and necessitated everything, and at times it seems too much for me to sanely contain. This causes me to conclude that in order for me to keep what little sanity it has allowed me to retain (no matter how torn and convoluted) I must let some of it escape by sharing it. The good thing is that I have the ability to shape the way in which it is shared. The bad thing is I can't seem to allow myself to take the easy way out and share the less involved aspect of it (if there even is in fact such a thing).

But all in all I reckon that sharing this decidedly more personal area of my life is not so bad. I guess that just as is with everything else, a word (after a little mental finagling) can be explained or shared in ways that are not specific enough to be too uncomfortable/painful for the sharer and not cryptic enough for the sharee to be thoroughly confused/annoyed and eventually offended by. I guess I'll stop here if not for the sake of length then for the sake of my fingers.

Home...

School is over for the time being and I'm home now. Sadly, the comfort and solitude that home once provided from the world covers me no longer. Being in school for so long has tainted me with knowledge from a tree that was both foreign and inviting to me. This tree of knowledge with its fruits of acquaintance, experience and higher learning has apparently open the unshutable eye of my mind consequently giving me the unwanted ability to see through the once accepted preconceptions that constituted the very foundation on which my comfort was built. I am now undone.

The idea that I was somehow eluding the damaging effects of this social, emotional and educational experience kept me stable for the most part, but I realize in coming home that the Clayton that I am now is totally different from the one who left home for college 9 months ago. Who knew that a person could die, be born again, and still develop and mature farther in 9 months then he or she has in the 18 or so years prior. As if this idea weren't difficult enough to wrap my mind around, I am faced with the fact that despite the large strides that I have made in my apparently obvious metamorphosis, I've actually lost ground. This leads me to believe that progress in certain aspects of life inevitably leads to retrogression in others.

Through all of this I've come to the conclusion that the inherent necessity for inner peace (my definition of true happiness) which drives me to better myself also necessitates the death of notions which may be commonly perceived as good in order to promote the life and growth of ideals which others (those who don't share the same convictions and mindset) may deem as trivial and unessential. Though this is an elementary concept on the surface, I’ve learned that the underlying acceptances and tolerances that are required for it to be truly put in to practice have implications that transcend the ability of even the most knowledgeable individuals to recognize and accept.

Finally

It's been a while since I’ve written my last entry. But the fact is, in the time between this and the last one I have changed so much that I wouldn't have been able to articulate my thoughts and feeling adequately enough for anyone ( let alone myself) to understand any time before now. The decision that I spoke of in the previous post proved to be harder to make then I had ever anticipated it to be, and in rereading it I understand why.

The realization that my mental and emotional stability rested on this decision and consequent group of decisions eluded me, and in doing so it threw me for a loop that was worthy of its own name and mini-gift shop. In trying to feel my way toward the right decision, I subjected myself to feelings and thoughts that arrested the development of any attempted thought process other then that which involved the conclusion of this search. I became entangled by the idea of finding the one, true, right answer, and all of my efforts (in order to avoid the anguish which was a result of resting in a lukewarm state of being) were put into trying to find it as immediately as possible. I failed to realize however that encouraging and allowing my mind to operate in such a hyper extended, overworked fashion was causing me more pain and harm then the solution would eventually relieve. When this did finally dawn on me, it put everything into its proper perspective.

I understand now that just as an individual can’t expect to run if he or she doesn't first learn to walk, I can not come to an answer if I do not first allow myself to recognize and complete the steps that are normally required for an acceptable solution. I can no longer try to view situations as if they all have some common theme because, in all actuality, they often don't. I must therefore learn to take things more slowly and give myself enough time to properly adapt to the problems at hand, thereby avoiding my tendency to prematurely expend what little energy I have allotted for taking care of truly vital, internal struggles. Most importantly I came to understand that deliberate, steady progress is stable and preferable to quick and erratic counterpart.

To live is to learn. I just wish that the lessons weren’t so pricey.

Crossroads

I've arrived and have come to the point where the decisions I make now will become the crux of the remainder of my life. The past couple weeks have been trying and painful in that I have been forced, through specific circumstances, to make life, mind, and spirit altering decisions. I realize now that I hold a love hate feeling toward those particular types of decisions. In earlier posts it seemed as though I was almost complaining about the lack of struggle in my life, but I have come to realize that I merely need to look beyond what is immediately apparent in my life to find these struggles. I realized that struggle is so deeply rooted in my life that I have taken it for granted.

It is not my assumption that no one else goes through struggle, and I'm well aware that if there were a tree with post-it's of people's problems I would most likely be overwhelmed at the immensity of some and taken aback by the number of them all. I just figured that in trying to write down my feelings about my own, personal, internal, war I could somehow make steps toward adequately solving it.

All this to say, I'm torn between up and down, left and right.....correct...and incorrect. I can't seem to determine whether or not it is the deep turmoil that the problem causes or the diametrically apposed answers to the problem that troubles me so. I acknowledge the fact that neither solution will leave me completely satisfied with their respective results; it is only the possibility that one will leave me significantly happier that drives me to begin with.

If I could live my life in the gray area and be content I most definitely would, but I believe everyone would agree that living life in a state that is always awkward and uncomfortable is no life at all. However, I can't allow this to effect me in such a way that it consumes all of my thoughts and energy. I must strive to live in such a manner that leaves a door open for answers to come in their due time, without false persuasion by my desire to attain closure, and hopefully in doing so, I will reach a conclusion that is truly right.

Sometimes...

I think life would be much easier if I didn't think so much. If I didn't constantly analyzes things and were content with viewing things, accepting things and writing things on the surface level, I wouldn't have this horendous burden of high expectations constantly placed upon my shoulders. My father wouldn't have to work his fingers to the bone, semi-literally to keep me in this institution of higher learning, and I wouldn't be overwhelmed with feelings of unworthiness...

Because I have no plans for the immediate or not so immediate future, I live day to day and hope that no one ever realizes that I am, on a whole, clueless about life in general. In this world of fast food, instant pregnancy tests and globalized news, I feel so inadequate, and sadly I know I’m not the only one. Although this fact should be what comforts me, it ultimately robs me of hope solely because I wonder: if I’m not the only one confused, why do I feel so alone? How do individuals live with never being certain of anything? Why do these individuals choose to act as though the world is their oyster when they are, in all actuality, a smidgen of matter in this immense universe?

Maybe the entire purpose of our existence is not to deny the truth, but to accept it and become comfortable enough with the implications of it to embrace each new day with open arms.