I try not to be melodramatic, but I think that it is easy for me to be so.
Perhaps it is my temperment.
I received this letter in the mail — from Letters in the Mail — and it was five pages long.
I was excited to read it, but when I opened it, I realized that the pages were out of order.
I read it in the order that the pages had been folded, all the while, trying to decipher which page led to which other page, until I had some idea of how it was supposed to be.
When I finished reading, I briefly considered reading it again, but then I felt lazy, thinking that the one time through had been good enough for me.
The letter was written by a writer who has books published (though I’d never heard of any of them). The letter was about metaphors, especially Jungian metaphors. While reading it, it seemed to me to be a jumble of thoughts really — because the pages of the letter were out of order, I’m certain — but even so, that letter got me to thinking.
That letter struck me as being a good metaphor for my life right now.
Yes, my life does seem like a long, rambling letter with pages out of order, and only now I am figuring out in what order the pages are supposed to be.
Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? I’m finally figuring shit out, right?
Well, I suppose so.
But, the melodramatic part: this should tell you a little bit about how my brain works, and about my old habits of perception.
I paid money for a divination recently.
I’d been meaning to get a divination for quite some time now, but I was always afraid to, for fear of the answers that I’d get.
But the answers that I did get were quite lovely, actually, and helpful. But I wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t at least one part that got me to over-thinking, and showed me for the melodramatic, worried sort of person that I really am.
The reading, in part, pointed out that some big changes were coming this spring, but not to worry, they are the changes that I had been seeking. (Which was nice.) The winter of my life is over, as it were, and what I wanted for me life is about to…manifest. There’s going to be a change in seasons — a spring is coming, if you will.
My first thought, however, when I read that, was full of *anxiety*
(I sense your eyeroll, here. It’s OK. I’ll wait.)
Here’s a truth about me: I am unlikely to think in terms of what I might gain when I hear that what I want is about to manifest, I think about what I might be forced to give up (or, possibly, lose) in the transaction*
Yep, that’s me, focused more on the negative. This is a bad habit – my fear of loss** — that has blocking me for YEARS.
So, with that in mind, I swear to gods, what I really should get tattooed on my forehead is:
Let Go of Fear
It has become a most annoying prevalent mantra for me.
It has literally become the BadWolf of my life.
It is what has been repeating in many ways, over and over, trying to drill it into my soul.
Everything has been converging to that, and whether or not, I’m actively looking for it, it’s there.
Let go of what doesn’t help you.
Let go of what hinders you.
Let go of what blocks you.
But there’s also that Fear, that insidious whisper: What are you willing to lose?
That’s a good question.
(It’s hard work for me to think of the other side of the question, though: What are you willing to gain? — an the attendant thoughts of worth and efficiency and whatnot. Those thoughts are usually 30 or 40 spaces down the list, in my thought processes.)
This is me admitting it.
Now excuse me while I go try not to forget what I wrote here and keep my promise.
*(It is not difficult for me to think about situations of choices in that way. Every choice that one makes has a price. The loss is always hard, and the gain is always vague. My father used to call it something else, but I think of it as a misanthrope economy.)
** Loss of what, you ask? Loss of control. Loss of security. Loss of sanity. Especially, loss of sanity.