the hardest lessons

11 08 2012

Typically, the hardest lessons about one’s self come in that awkward moment of realizing that you were wrong. Emotional vomit, it gets me… I open my mouth and before I know it I’ve just ranted myself into an unnecessary tantrum. Once, when I was younger, these things would happen and I would blame it on the world around me, always circumstance. But my life is slowly becoming more microscopic and the details are always unavoidable. No one created this delirious version of reality but me. I find that reflection and retracing of actions and words lead to thoughts, which can be traced to roots. For every word, thought and action has a root which is sometimes embedded in deep, old parts of our selves that we are often unaware exist. They seed, gestate, and sprout into the will, regardless. The emotions, ruled by cups, by water, fluid and ever changing… life giving as well as taking. The thought, ruled by swords, by air, both piercing and protecting. The will, ruled by wands, by fire- creative and destructive fire. And the material, matter- ruled by disks, by earth- the form which we chose to give life, whether with intent or with lack thereof: the final solution. The pieces of self are unfolding, I see the parts of me that were trained from repeated words, emotional responses and actions… this which once seemed an infinite puzzle is becoming more like an enigmatic chasm that can be interpreted, navigated and slowly understood, like Pythia. Lucid living, lucid waking, awareness- awake! I hear your call, and I can only continue forward on this grand adventure, this bella vida! I wish I had captured the picture today, but as we drove home we saw a sign pasted to a road barrier: “Wake Up!”

Indeed.

Image

-the summer sky, as seen from Lido Beach, June 2012

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One response

14 08 2012
suzanne t. hartman

wonderful

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