I Am a Work In Progress

Ah.. coffee and existential dread. A few days back I went to the obligatory Christmas choir with my family. I didn’t expect it to be as painful as it was. I’m not Christian, but it reminded me of someone I loved madly for a number of years. It was less about him, and that whole train wreck, never mind how the bible lore fed his mental illness, and at times became a weapon he used to manipulate/abuse others.

I think I was teary more so because it reminded me of a time in my life when I was more naive, open, ‘felt’, ‘lived’, loved, ‘Believed’ intensely, deeply, wildly. Don’t get me wrong.. I’m glad I’ve outgrown certain ideals and patterns that ultimately were more self-destructive than elating, and started making more rational, grounded choices. Life is definitely more constructive, healthy, and mellowed, but I also feel.. withdrawn, observing rather than present, tempered, cautiously invested. I wonder if it’s a phase as I make changes, and find my footing, or if this is just.. who I am now, irreversiblely aware? Perhaps that’s just part of maturing, less hormones? I wonder if I’ll ever love that deeply, passionately again? Or even believe in something with that much ferocity?