I'm devastated. Devastated at myself, at life, at people who I gave my time to and in trade I found my arms empty. Choices, mistakes, and things I can't control are beating me down. It's not hard to find someone who will listen but it's such a process to trust someone new. To find someone who understands how I am. To find quality in a person you admire and respect. I'm just tired. My mind is tired from trying to make sense of everything. My spirit is just tired from all the grief and this widening absence of solace. My soul has been in flight too long for it can take in search for something to console me. But it seems that I can't find what I need. I feel far from the proximity of happiness.

I leave with this. It's one of those writings that make you remember what's truly important. Well, for me at least. That it doesn't matter how insignificant you are compared to the rest of the world because you still hold life at your reins. Being human, you have so much to explore about yourself and share with people around you. And life itself is an amazing thing and you have to seize the moments and make the most of it. Find your limits and try to find the pieces that complete you.

THE INVITATION
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are - I want to know if you are willing to risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon, I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you've been opened by life's betrayal or have become shriveled and closed for fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain - mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story your telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty even when its not pretty, everyday, and if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have, I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand at the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
-Oriah Mountain Dreamer (an Indian Elder)

Your entry, the first have, reminds me of of an essay written by this famous french philospher, Descartes. Especilaly the end of it where you talk about finding the pieces that complete you.
» Dilated on 2006-02-07 03:14:48

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