03 January 2014

The journey ahead

Lately it seems as though my memories - those internal anchors of identity - have loosened themselves from their sheaves to float about aimlessly in the ether; here, an unlikely pair brush past one another, while other, tighter chronologies careen away, as though repelled by their like poles. The ephemera of this stagnant rock pool reflects a self so fractured it hardly bears peering into, but I can’t seem to pull myself away at times.

This year I want to do more doing, and less lying wounded along the shoreline of my personal histories. I want to stop worrying over little, incremental units of time, and simply live the big picture. Rather than brace myself for the slap of each wave as it comes, I want to climb up and over the whole roiling froth of it and learn to ride the swell.

Most of all, I want to cast off the suffocating hopelessness I’ve felt over the last few years, and the certainty that I’m not only destined for pain, but that I deserve nothing else. I’m less sure about how to conquer this particular barrier to contentment, but I’ve a feeling the answer lies somewhere in the journey ahead.

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