It’s been five months, the interwebs tell me, since I posted a new blog. It made me wonder why and I began reviewing the past five months, the past ten months, the past year, decade, life. I’ve been trying to remember who I was, who I am, who I am becoming, who I want(ed) to become. I believe that people don’t really change who they are, character wise; but beliefs and behaviors and experiences definitely alter the way that core self presents itself. Without getting all geeky and social workery, and keeping a trauma informed frame of reference, I’ve come to the following thought processes I am still clarifying internally:
Happiness isn’t only a noun. Like trust, it is a verb as well. A state of being. We all seem to seek it, we may delude ourselves into believing things are altruistic or selfless, but peace, true peace and grace in the sense of happiness, are mere moments we sometimes work for and sometimes come easily. They can be fleeting, lasting only a moment, no longer than a blink, a kiss, a memory. Or they may last 97 days. But there are two guarantees in terms of happiness: as long as you are consciously living (maybe when you aren’t) these moments will always end, and come again. Sometimes it’s longer between moments, sometimes they are so quick to cycle you don’t notice the breaks.
Personally, as long as I can remember, contentment eludes me most times for whatever reason. But I have the moments, glimpses that get me through to the next one. I get bored and unsatisfied with every facet of my being, but if I can keep from destroying things too permanently in the interim, I’m able to know I am okay. I am always okay. As I have matured, I’ve realized it is better to destroy my hair, paint a wall, bite my nails til they bleed… rather than walking out on jobs, people, friends, places, etc. but subconsciously I think I still check out. Some in my world realize this about me, and love me anyway. Some people know it but don’t understand it. They take it as a personal affront and push me away. But that’s okay, too. Everyone outgrows people and situations. Everyone has their own happiness to mitigate and manage. I find it easier to console and regulate myself as I get older, what used to be dissociation and borderline personality tendencies has become more nostalgia and rueful, but with a sense of peace. It’s odd.
As previously stated, I’m still processing things. I’m very proud that I have learned to forgive myself and see beauty in myself others saw and I denied. For the most part anyway, I still full on have moments of doubt and self loathing, to be sure. But even more obvious than grace, these moments are shorter. I consciously realize when I am feeling regret and doubt in my world. And I can just as easily talk myself out of it, but it’s work. It’s a verb. Love is a verb. Self love is sometimes the hardest. Learning to stop internalizing negativity and reframing it into a palatable lesson has been the crux of this year. I’m thankful for the immense amount of pain I have felt. The sense of loss. The ability to be so wrecked by something I find myself lying on the ground in a totally inconsolable heap. Because I can get up. I can still be okay. I can be loved and love again. I can accept things in the forms that I did not want. Or did not plan. I can keep going. I can be happy to have what I have, despite it not being what I dreamed or imagined. I choose peace.
And so it goes.
“I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it.” ~ Salinger