Doubt

For a moment I almost felt sorry for myself. As always, a thought kept bubbling up in my head, taking annoying dense shape inside my skull. This time it whispered, "what are you doing with your life?" Apparently existing was not a good enough answer. The question surged and expanded, its brittle accusation forming a stress headache that pushed against my skull as if I am the one that had trapped it there. I could only groan and push through the day. But by the end of it I felt exhausted and more than a little irritated. I was angry without really knowing why.

At home, in the darkness of my own room, I tried to wrap myself with positive affirmations. "You can do it." "Keep working towards your dreams." "Don't let doubt stop you." It almost worked. But I still felt pretty useless. What was I doing with my life? Where was I going? The uncertainty of the future loomed before me and I realized how slender my path was, and how easily I could step off of it. Suddenly it felt like every decision I made was just another step farther away from my goals. Was I doing all that I could do? I had to do more. I had to write more and soon or else I'd never finish. I'd just fail at the one thing I love. And so on and so forth. I had almost sank into a cycle of despair.

But then another thought struck me. What are you doing right?

I hadn't really ever dwelled on what I was doing right in my life. Most of the time I was too focused on all I've done wrong. I started to make a list in my head. I was aware of how much further I had to go, but I was also surprised at how much I was dedicating to my passions. I wasn't just letting the days go by, I was setting aside time to focus on making my dream into a reality. I had concrete examples that I could refer to. I felt...proud of myself.  In the dark I counted off my goals, and felt hopeful. There would always be worries that make their way into my thoughts, but everyday I'm trying to better myself. I can't be bothered with doubts. I'm too busy working to make my dreams a reality.

I realize that were hope exists, doubt has no room to follow.

To Run.

Earlier this morning as I made my way to work, I witnessed something that really made me stop and think. 

I was on an overly crowded bus (thank you Queens) headed to work. The rain was slapping against the windows and I happened to look out one of them and I noticed a man hunched in the rain, waiting by the bus-stop. Unfortunately for him he was standing at a local bus-stop and I was on the limited bus so I knew he would be passed by. But this man took one look at the bus and started running. At first I thought he had forgotten something at home. It took me a moment to realize that wasn't the case at all. He was running towards the limited bus-stop. He was trying to get there before we did. 

If that had been me I would have cursed my miserable luck and continued waiting for a local bus in the rain. That made me think. What motivates a man to risk running to a limited bus-stop when he was already at the local? Why would he run and not wait? Surely one would think the chances are too great to make it to the stop before the bus would. But he ran, even with the odds against him. 

He knew he could make it. 

This man saw a chance and took it, leaving the security of the place he was at to chase something better. I realized how different that would have been from my own actions. I also realized that while I would have still been waiting in the rain he would already have been on a bus heading towards his destination. 

Success feels like the same thing. It's an action, a chase. It's a man running towards a bus-stop three blocks down while a speeding bus drives by. It's no longer waiting for something to reach you, but instead getting up and getting it yourself. Success is not passivity. You've got to make a move. As he climbed into the bus, soaking wet and out of breath, I smiled at this man who had, in the flash of a moment changed something within me. Suddenly the world seemed to make more sense. It's amazing what the actions in everyday life can teach. 

A New Year. A New Day

A week into the new year and a day past my birthday and suddenly it truly feels like a new year to me. I don't feel older, I just feel more aware of who I am and the time I've been given. That time is right now. No more. No less. Everything else is a memory or speculation. Understanding this I realize that my goals are a day to day process. Everyday has to be lived with as much passion and purpose as I feel I can give because today is the only day that matters. In that way, I can actually feel like I've given it my all. 

December 31, 2013 my emotions were in such a state of conflict that I couldn't even write them down. Where had the year gone? What had I accomplished? What could I be proud of? I felt useless. I felt like a failure. I knew I hadn't given it my all and I would be entering the new year with feelings of regret and remorse. I didn't want that. So I started to think of New Years resolutions. But even as I wrote them out they felt hollow to me. They were just words. Promises already waiting to be broken. Lose weight. Be kinder. Travel the world. They sounded like commands and felt harsh to my ears. It was as if I were forcing myself to change, like I was ashamed of who I was at the moment. 

But that's not true. 

I had experienced a lot in 2013 that I will forever be grateful for. And even though I felt there was so much more I had to accomplish I needed to express myself in a way that showed this gratitude and a desire to be a better me. So I began to look at the day to day. Of course I want to be healthier, kinder and wiser. Of course I would love to have new amazing experiences and adventures. But how do I go about such grand ideas? 

I go about it like this: day by day. Hour by hour. My life is in the present and that is how I will live. 

So today I eat a healthier option. I smile more. I wake up thankful (if not cheerful). I work to the best of my ability. I write with purpose and desire. I exercise with all of my body. I love with all of my heart. Live with my eyes wide open, receptive and aware. This is all I can do. This is all I can be, the best of me one day at a time. 

Nothing's Easy (But is it Worth it?)

Ok, so if you're like me, you're someone in your mid twenties to early thirties who realizes that your dreams may not fit that standard mold of success. You don't want to be a doctor or lawyer, but you still want your life's meaning to help change the world. 

It's getting started that's the tricky part. 

Or perhaps you've already started but you feel stuck in an endless cycle of projects that don't seem to be taking you as close to your goals as you may want. 

And then there are your circle of friends, whose successes leave you feeling proud and envious at the same time. Meanwhile you can count your accomplishments on one hand. 

Or perhaps one finger. 

So you're discouraged. Your friends have all taken a different path and many of them has found success and you don't feel you can talk to them about the road you chose to go down because, how could they possibly understand? You desire a role model, a successful face that has been where you are before but has somehow made themselves into something much greater. You desire some clear cut instruction manual telling you that feelings of uncertainty and panic when chasing your dreams are normal. You desire some kind of validation. Because right now, at this particular moment, you don't know if continuing on is worth it. 

But the world is ominously silent. 

I think this is the part where people tend to give up; when they're casting their fears to the universe, pleading for a sign but getting only silence in return. The hopelessness, the loneliness can be overwhelming. But you're reading the signs wrong. 

"I shall assume that your silence gives consent" is what the famous philosopher Plato once said. He couldn't be more right. Sometimes silence is the world acknowledging that you're doing it right. You don't need fireworks and marching bands to tell you that your path is a worthy one. You only need to feel the surety in your heart to know that this is what you were meant to do. This is what you were meant to be. 

Now here's the hard part. Being consistent. Waking up every morning still living in your parent's house or that tiny little apartment on crappy avenue and motivating yourself to take that one step today that will bring you closer to your life's dream. Juggling work and school or stresses from your home and personal life to sit down at 2am in the morning to work on your passion. Brushing aside the worried proclamations of friends and family who wish you had chosen a more...lucrative/safe path to continue to follow your dream. It will not be easy. But whenever you feel like giving up and your prayers are going unanswered remember Plato's quote. Close your eyes and ask the question inwardly, "is this worth it?" And be amazed at how your heart responds. There lies the truth. 

Affirmation: You are Limitless

This journey towards making my dreams a reality has only one true enemy. And that is me. 

No matter how many people speak negatively of my desires or fill my head with doubtful words, ultimately I am the one who makes the final decision. I am the one who either brushes past the stings or fall to its poison. There is a choice in the matter. I am the one who chooses. This power is mine and mine alone. 

So why do I bother with doubt in the first place? I mean, ultimately I am the master of my own destiny right? I can walk my own path, so why the struggle? It's because I put myself and the dreams that motivate me into a tiny box. I give myself walls and regulate their distance. I allow myself to go only so far before I reach the barrier and when I do, I believe only one thing, that I can go no further. I close myself up to the possibility of success. I am the one who rations the space that I feel I deserve and like a caged bird, I mourn for my freedom. But it is all my doing. I am the one trapping myself. I am the prisoner and the prison itself.

But dreams are boundless. 

They stir the synapses of my brain and push outward, forcing me to see its possibly through space and time. I begin to imagine a future where my dreams are realized. Already they have tapped into a realm I cannot go. My dreams have no box to shut itself into. It has no prisons to mourn in. I could not cast a power into a man-made space and force it to stay. It will reach higher than the walls I build each and every time. 

I think about this and begin to understand something else. If I am able to create an idea so powerful that no prison can hold it, what does that make me? Surely not a person who will let one obstacle prevent me from actualizing the dreams I birth into the world? I create my own blockades, I design my own prison walls and for this reason I understand that without those barriers I would be limitless. I would be able to shatter any obstacles of the world because I've already destroyed them in my mind. 

Clarity

Clarity. I'm in the process of searching for it. Unfortunately, on my quest, there have been millions of buzzing negations questioning my search for the right to be clearheaded, focused...Happy. I am at war with myself. It is like there is a separate entity inside of me lurking in the dark recesses of my mind, like Gollum, searching for its "precious". The "precious" being my positive sense of self. This entity wants to harbor it for its own intentions while I'm the one who tragically disappears, becoming the gray puddle wetting everyone's happy shoes or the unneeded shade on an already chilly day. I'd like to say this war is new but it's not. It's been raging inside of me from the moment I realized that being a "good little girl" does not equate to showing my anger/frustration. It was raging from the moment I realized that being a "joy to be around" did not mean divulging my many feelings of inadequacy or doubt. In other words, it started the moment I realized I had to put on a mask. Dutifully I wore it, smiling when required, being polite when I wanted to scream. I let my sadness fall onto the soft caress of my pillow at night. By morning, I was doing it all again.

The moment my mask broke was when I realized that everyone wore them. My parents wore them, my siblings, even my friends. We were all existing with only a shallow version of ourselves exposed to the world. We showed our true selves to only a trusted few, and even with them we kept certain parts hidden. And within us, wars were raging. These wars were all about self-awareness, self-love and acceptance. It's about finding the parts of ourselves that we hid to make others happy. And loving even the most torn and fragile bits of who we are. Without those pieces, we are lost. How can we ever know ourselves? There's courage in the act of living, but I would go even further and say there's courage in the act of being. Truly being oneself without all the filters. So I've decided to go on a mission, to find myself, and accept all that I am, good or bad. I will embrace my mistakes, celebrate my accomplishments and feel pride in how far I've come. I will be grateful each day for a chance to learn more about myself. And while those dark thoughts litter my mind, magnifying my failures, pointing out my flaws, I won't cringe, I won't run away. Instead, I'll acknowledge it. Give it light, chase the shadows away and let it stand there, without enchantment. It is what it is. It's amazing how quickly bad thoughts lose their power when they are faced head on, when all the worry and shame has been stripped away. You're left with just a thought. A small piece of all that is. And that piece doesn't even come close to who I'm discovering myself to be.

The Solitary Act of Coping.

There is a pattern to my emotional coping. It goes like this:

Feel an overwhelming negative emotion. 

Shuts down. 

Stops contact with family and friends.

Removes self from the world.

Brood.

Hypothesize.

Accept.

Starts contact again.

Slowly reemerges back into the world. 

And the cycle continues. 

I'm not the kind of person who, when I'm feeling angry or sad, chooses to share my sadness or anger. I remove myself and I become solitary. I let my mind work out its response to the trigger of my emotions. I let my body come back to its plateau. Because when I feel those emotions the first thing my body does is tense up. I feel the anger radiate through me. Or the sadness squeeze my gut and dry my throat. The sensations take over and all that I am becomes angry or sad. My mind begins to replay the trigger events and I'm stuck in that moment. I can't get away from it. And so if a person were to interact with me all they'd get is the residue of my anger or sorrow. 

That's a lot to put on a person. 

Especially someone who I care about and who did nothing wrong. So I isolate myself until I feel like me again. For a long time I believed this was the way to function. I didn't even bother to look at it from the other standpoint. How can my friends, my family ever claim to know me if they don't really "know" me? Which is to say, how can they get a sense of who I am if every time something affects me negatively, I run away? I'm perfectly ok with seeing my friends angry or sad. In fact I make it my duty to try and help. I am the shoulder to cry on, the calm voice of reason and reassurance. I tell them that I'm there if they need me. And yet I would rather face the unpleasant parts of myself alone than let my loved ones do the same for me. 

I can argue and say that what I do is a sign of love. I'd rather deal with it alone than burden my friends. But what I'm really doing is alienating the people I care about at a time when I may need them the most. What I do is make them feel inadequate, unable to really understand me or my emotions because I am constantly pushing them away. I'm creating a barrier between my friends and myself. However thin that barrier may be, it's there and it affects the way I interact with them and how closely I let them into my lives. What I'm really doing is hiding my vulnerability. I don't want them to see me hurt. I don't want them to witness my rage. So I hide my feelings and ultimately I hide myself from those closest to me. 

This is an act of cowardice, not valor. I'm afraid the people I love won't like what they see. I'm afraid they'll see me at my most fragile moments and abandon me, unable to cope with my emotional state. I don't even take account of the fact that I've seen them in various emotional states and I care about them anyway. I just assume that I'm not good enough to stick around for. 

It's almost silly how the way I deal with other people doesn't seem to qualify for me. It's as if I view myself as a different species, not quite human, not quite important enough to fully love and accept. It's crazy how I push the people I care about away.  But I think just writing about this is a step in the right direction. I've been hiding too long. Posting my little grievances on my social media site is one thing. Letting someone I care about see me when I'm not all together is quite another. But I will do this. Because they trust me enough to let me see their tears. They trust me enough to let me in when they are at their worst. I should do the same. They are worth that much. They are worth so much more.