How many times we have been told that we choose our thoughts and even how we feel. It has been hard for me to deal with that notion as I tend to be in a “longing” kind of mood as old as me. I wake every morning, having to remind myself to count my blessings – I slept well, I have a bed, birds are singing, it is a rainy day, (I love those). I follow my morning routine, get a coffee and go back to bed to read or write about my impressions and meditate (or at least try!).
The grey clouds in the sky seem the stuffing of an old silver bed cover with glowing patches here and there. As they move slowly, I think to myself – this would past too – What is “this”? That is the question.
When I was a kid, I remember praying for enthusiasm. I was a very responsible and stubborn kid; I spend hours studying, practicing and perfecting whatever is that I was up to. Even then, though, I felt as my inspiration and persistence were fueled by a “heavy” passion, defiance or even a sense of duty. It was hard work and struggle imposed from within, a painful mix of resilience and hope going along with an endless zest to uncover the truth.
The truth here is a very wide concept, made of the many existential questions I have asked myself since childhood. Answers have come and gone, dressed up in experiences, books, therapy, studies, relationships and artistic endeavors. There have been moments of absolute pleasure, infatuation and recognition, as well as despair, sadness and giving in.
I was told once I was an “intense” person. The comment was made in the context of a conflicted relationship and intended to point out the “villain” flaw responsible for the problem. It crushed me… not because I thought it was the root of the problem, but because it was true. I felt that the inner world I had been immersing myself to find answers was being erased at a stroke and I would never be loved…
That inner world was loaded with blurred and strange “things” exerting a strong pull on me. Some were indescribable, others painful and there were those that only could fit into the category of “magic.” I felt busted! The inner attic of my heart and soul could be a mess, but It was a mess I was exploring with the timeless memories of our humanity and the promise of continuity.
Today, I can acknowledge with a smile, that I am indeed intense. Nothing goes in the bucket of indifference to me. I experience every good or bad mood, event, discovery, emotion and wonder in all its beautiful force. Sometimes is damn difficult, too much to bear for a vulnerable and breakable human being! Add to that, my inner critic’ tendency to beat myself out for taking in that much, and the “inadequate-self” who jumps into “fixing mode” right away.
There are those quiet days, when I sit in bed and ask again – it is a new day, shouldn’t my soul be rising as the sun?
I think of enthusiasm then, and face the culprit behind its disappearance; love. The love I have a lifetime craving from the outside because it is so hard to find within.
Circumstances are bad measures for our worth; it is so easy to get caught in others’ definitions of success. It is also common to get trapped in our story and edit those scenes that speak of a different world; a world that asks for self-love and the courage to show up and let myself be seen.
Perhaps enthusiasm is just the result of an unshakable faith and trust in the WHO I really am and my gifts; joined with the willingness to believe that no matter how “out of context” life seems to be, the Universe is plotting to do me good.
I keep going through this process of learning to relax and flow. It is a choice I have to make every day (or even every minute if I can remember to turn the autopilot off).
The sun is rising and my soul is sleepy…
Let compassion and acknowledgement carry her into the world today.
Let a choice define the moment as an adventure,
And walk the path with “How amazing!” lenses in the senses and
A grateful and open mind,
Miracles shall find me…
And you my dear reader, how does enthusiasm reveals to you?
Image Credit – http://cutearoo.com/2011/03/10/its-a-bird-no-its-a-plane/