It's been over week since I've written. Frankly, I just haven't had the energy to actually manifest the things I've felt and thought into words that others could understand. For the past week or so, I would think about writing, but I found myself unable to act on it. I believe that I just needed some time to get get away... some time to escape from analyzing and admitting to what I've been feeling and thinking. To write means to become fully cognizant of what I feel, believe, and think; that is what writing means to me and I just had to stop before I sank myself too deep into my emotions.
I compare the past week or so to the progression of the day from dawn to morning. For the past week, I felt as if I had woken up too early in the day and the sun had yet risen. Dawn, that time in the day when everything around you is still encased in darkness, everything is silent, still, and it's too cold to get out of bed; that is how the world has felt for me in the past week or so. I found myself separated from the rest of the world as I looked out from the warmth and certainty of my figurative bed. I detached myself from the world because it was just too much for me to handle. It was just too sad.
Fortunately, recently, things have gotten better. I've surrounded myself with friends that have been showing me a better, more optimistic perspective on life. My friend A., especially, recently showed me that the world isn't necessarily the enemy nor is it the bearer of misfortune. It's interesting that she's come across her fair share of heartache, betrayal, and sorrows, yet she can still smile back at the world. Previously, I was only aware of my perspective of the world (cold, selfish, manipulative, and perhaps even menacing) and those that shared the same view. What I solely knew was what I considered to be a universal truth; I knew no better. After my conversation with A., she made me realize that the way I saw the world was not as objective of a view as I previously thought. She made me realize that it's not the world that hurts us, but ourselves. It reminds me of the psychology term "self-fulfilling prophecy". We see ourselves being hurt and betrayed, therefore we unwittingly put ourselves on the path of being hurt and betrayed.
Sure, there are those that intentionally hurt us, but it's how we see the experience that matters. To be deliberately hurt for reasons far from justified reason, or the lack of any reason at all, can be painful, but the pain is only temporary. What is long-lasting, perhaps even permanent, is what we take from it. Do we fight back? Do we hold a grudge? Or do we move on, decide that we were the better person in the given situation(s), and live our lives free from the weight of scorn?
I've lived far too long holding my fists in front of me. Frankly, I feel as if being on the defensive for so long has kept me from truly living. I want to let the world in: the pain, the happiness, the sorrow, the bliss. Whatever happens, as long as I make sure that I did the best I can to live virtuously, compassionately, and lovingly, I can tell myself that my life was worthwhile.
The best I can do and should do is open my heart. The rest is left for the world to decide.
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