“Three things cannot long be hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth”
I told myself I’d write this blog post 3 weeks ago. Why didn’t I? I thought about it a lot, each time feeling the heavy weight of guilt piling upon guilt. My chest tightened, and I’d remind myself to take deep breaths.
Fear of success.
Fear of failure.
What’s the point of this blog? What do I want it to be?
So why’s it so hard to write?
I imagined a giant dam, with an ocean of ideas pushing strongly against the concrete walls, in ever-forceful waves. Every time I stepped to open the dam a bit, I would recoil in fear of being drowned by the cascading water falls. (What a pleasant death that would be, though, to be embraced by the full company and pleasure of my unbounded creativity and unearthed potential… that sounds a lot more artful than morose in my mind :P).
What do I do if the walls collapse meanwhile I figure out how to siphon the waters out one bit at a time?
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
Maybe where I am is perfect. Maybe I just haven’t discovered the inherent perfection in my situation.
I toyed a lot with the idea of guilt over the past few weeks, as the mounting self-imposed pressure shackled me further. I sought to unleash my creativity, but felt further bounded by the guilt of not being there already.
For not being the perfect friend.
For still needing to hide from the world, from time to time, in order to cope with it.
I should be grateful.. ah… “should be”. There’s the culprit. I’ll transform it: I would like to focus, instead, on how far I’ve come. Recalling the years I spent feeling addicted to fantasizing, being lost in other worlds, in other times, in other bodies, for days and weeks at a time, in order to deal with my world. Hours spent not being aware of my surroundings. Lost in my head. Feeling unable, unwilling to move out of that world and into reality. I felt stronger in my fantasies. More loved. More in control. Or more out of control. More victim-like. Interesting themes played out in my head, and I felt the visceral reaction in my body.
I’d cry. Rage. Rejoice. All from the images playing out in my head. And when I got bored of the story line, because everything had been resolved, I’d create a new world. A new identity.
I’ve lived dozens of lives.
I play this out in my life to a degree, still, in the cycles I find myself circling through.
And yet, still, I’ve overcome. I don’t get sucked in anymore. I don’t get lost in my head for hours at a time, unable to pull myself out of the fiction floating in my cerebral veins.
I can deal with my world now without needing to get lost in another one.
Guilt is knowing this and still thinking I should do more. Be more. Know more. Have more. More More More.
Guilt is knowing this and saying, “it doesn’t matter.”
But it does. I know it does.
Guilt is cutting you off from the full expression of who you truly are, for the sake of keeping you “safe”. But what is safety when it chokes your voice dry in your throat? How is that better?
Guilt is why it’s so hard to be honest with myself. I stare guilt in its face and see a speckled, sad version of myself and I say, “no more”. I see guilt and I run. I run from my truths. I run from friends. I run from my to-dos. I run.
I don’t want to run anymore.
I want to face the so-called “demons” of my life, and stand tall, knowing my heart’s Truths. I did my best. That is all I can ever do. That means it’s GOOD ENOUGH, no matter what ANYONE says. And that has to be true of everyone else, too.
I want to look guilt in the eye and hug it, like the brethren it can be.
I’ve become a alchemist, turning lead into gold. Challenges into grace. Into Power. Into Truth.
I know I can do it with guilt, too.
What is the gift in guilt? How can I transform it?
What is the gift in feeling “I should be there already”? I’ve traced a lot of my recurring guilt-thoughts to that one core idea. I should be there already.
I had a dream once about 5 years ago where I was training myself and my sister to be superheroes. My city needed me. But I didn’t want to fly all the way to where I was needed. I think I might have been afraid of flying – that was a big theme during ,y dreams, then. Afraid of flying, and eventually, conquering that fear in dream cycles. (Another victory :). So, instead of flying, I jumped into a wormhole. Except the wormhole was small, tight, and dark. I couldn’t see where I was going. And what initially seemed like a shortcut was actually going to be more difficult to navigate.
Because (in chorus) – I had to be there. Now.
So what is the gift in that?
For one, now I know. I know now that I can trace a lot of my avoidance behavior to this singular thought. Brilliant victory (and gift!) short of my 27th birthday :).
So I can start to address that thought in the moment. I can stop running.
That awareness is the juice I’ve squeezed out of the thought (and accompanying guilt), “I should be there already“. It’s ripe and rich in vitamins. I can already feel the power in my body as I recognize the growth I’m experiencing in this moment just from acknowledging and owning that.
That feels good.
The power is another gift, some more juice. You only know what power really feels like, when you know what powerless feels like. I know what powerless feels like.
That’s some damn good juice. I’ll take that over Starbucks any day.
Guilt.. what is your gold? Did you grace my life with your presence only so I could know.. grace? So I could know power? So I could know humility? So I could know honesty? Did you come only so I may know myself?
And I breathe a sigh of gratitude. I finally let myself sit down and write. And communicate. And own where I am.
The person who was once known as a “pathological liar” now gains strength from truth. Victory.
Guilt still lives here, it’s not over. But our journey of self-discovery has now officially begun.