Im so accustomed to quick transitions or having to make sudden life changes and Ive grown to favor them as a result. I thought that this move to Washington was the slowest and most excruciating change Id ever undergone but tonight it occurred to me that it was really one of many such transitions Ive made in recent years. I know everyone is in a perpetual state of metamorphosis and Ive watched myself go through the repetitive human cycle of growing and backsliding and learning over and and over again these 25 years. Ive seen my circumstances and environment change. Ive altered my public persona so many times that even my dearest friend lovingly accused me of being a poser. Ive been manic and fought severe depressive episodes. Ive spent years introspecting and learning everything I can about myself and where I came from. But ultimately, at base, nothing ever really changed. I was essentially static in every fundamental aspect of self. The last three years though have brought about such monumental internal changes that the full scope of them was beyond my comprehension until these last few weeks since I left Oklahoma. Hitting rock bottom really does make a difference. It knocks all the air out of you at first but then you realize that youve never seen your life with greater clarity than when youre flat on your back staring up at the stars above your head. In that moment you realize that the vast open space you see is life and the stars are pieces of you. Each star born from a lesson learned, a person encountered, or an experience had and you want nothing more than to birth countless more stars to beautify this vast open wealth of potential that stretches out before you. You begin mapping out constellations, drawing captivating abstract images of who you are. This constellation represents your family. That one, your relationships. Yet another, your adversities. And still another, your triumphs. Hitting rock bottom has a way of changing your perspective. There is a catch to it though. Falling hard to the bottom like that only works if you can avoid two things. The first is to be so obsessed with surviving from one fall to the next that you try to leap back up immediately in the name of enduring. The other is to crawl inside yourself, mourning the fact that you fell and focusing only on the pain. In order to gain perspective you cant play the part of the survivor or victim. You have to just be willing to accept and to flow and to examine and appreciate the experience of falling, the pain of landing, and the implications of trying again. You have to be patient. You have to give yourself time. You have to re-evaluate your methods and improve them. You have to be open to gaining new perspective and re-engineering the ways in which you proceed. You have to take a minute to just lay out under the stars so that you can see your life without all of the light pollution and distractions that come with perpetually trying to get through another day. I hit rock bottom three years ago during a cold bitter Canadian winter. As miserable as I was during much of that time and as deeply as I regret the pain I caused to a good man, that winter was the most influential era of my life to date. That winter I spent a lot of time lying on a frozen rocky ground, shivering and examining the constellations of my life. That winter brought contemplation and resolve and with the spring came the dawn of metamorphosis and the birth of many more stars. I found my faith again. I re-established, and on some levels established for the first time, family connections and healed relationships which had previously been strained and filled and with pain and anger. I opened myself up in new ways and at different times to two very different men, making myself vulnerable and changing the way I viewed love and how I conducted myself in relationships, only to have them both leave me. Those experiences confounded me, causing a greater degree of pain than I thought I was capable of feeling, and acted as karma for things I had done to others. As a result I allowed myself to lean on loved ones for support as I had never done before and recognized for the first time just how deep their love and loyalty ran. I learned to value the people who were already in my life on a whole new level but also to open myself up to the positive influence of strangers who also became dear friends and confidants. I made the boldest decision I ever had in pursuing my dreams more than 2,000 miles away from my entire support system, taking a leap of faith in believing that I could start a new life on my own. I developed astounding levels of confidence, recognizing my self-worth and completely destroying the negative ideas I had about myself. I discovered my identity. I learned to take whatever life could throw at me while keeping it in perspective and maintaining a sense of calm and faith that all would be well. Now Im happy and excited to see what else my future holds. I am part of an amazing professional industry built on service and healing, and my current employers are outstanding and exceptionally kind and helpful. And Im dating someone pretty stellar and taking things at a much slower and more relaxed pace than I have before. I have no desire to run, but I lack the giddiness and initial over-enthusiasm which always got me into trouble in the past. Im discovering what its like to be romantically involved without being entangled, to open myself up to another without sacrificing my identity or feeling a pressure to commit. Im learning to relax and to play and to live in the moment. Life is truly a beautiful thing. And there are many times when I literally and metaphorically lie down under the stars, not because I took a hard fall to the bottom but because Im managing to keep my feet on the ground to begin with and to have realistic expectations of myself, other people, and the world in which I live. I look to the sky still, but not to discern meaning or to contemplate how to avoid repeating poor decisions. I look now to count each spectacular star, knowing that each one is the product of my experiences, hard work, lessons, encounters, and relationships. I look to appreciate the magnificence of my life and to draw symbolic images of my journey in dozens of constellations. I look in order to map out the next portion of the journey and to navigate my way through each amazing era of my life. I look because I choose to.
Posted on: Sat, 26 Oct 2013 05:48:54 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015