The Unravelling

It was a delicately tied bow I was constantly tending to, making sure it stayed in tact and did not unravel. It required constant attention, a simple tug of the loose end would cause it to come completely apart. So I took on the full-time role of retightening it each time it came even a little bit loose. 

 

Until that one day when it finally unraveled. It was time. It was the very thing I feared so greatly leading up to it, because I knew once undone it would never be again, and I wasn’t sure who I would be without it. I felt the loss instantly, and for years I would painfully long to return to the presence of its sparkle. 

 

Yet, in that moment, there was something else. To let go of this heavy responsibility in ensuring it’s perfect form, and attempting to prevent the inevitable destruction that was constantly looming, brought an undeniable sense of relief. 

 

This I knew I could not ignore anymore. What I was denying in my surroundings in order to keep my attention on the survival of that carefully constructed bow now garnered my attention. In dropping the load that consumed my gaze, I could now to tend to all the knots that had become tangled around my ankles in their dismissal. 

a conversation with my worth

Last night I unlocked a new room of compassion in my heart. A gentle voice inside telling me that I was deserving of love. Of the affection from my husband that I so often turn away from because I don't trust it, because I don't trust that I deserve it. But last night, permission, and with it a stitch of slight repair in the long time disrupted connection between us. Soft tears rolled down my cheeks in this knowing.

Today there is a familiar fragile feeling inside. It does not come with words, just a sense that I am bracing against something and that my strength could falter in any moment. Like a sob between my throat and chest, waiting for its queue. I paused and looked a little closer. It almost felt like I was being picked on...but there was no one around to poke at me. Except me. All this happens beneath the language and it takes a still still quiet to even know it. But today there is a part of me that recognizes that it is me, the ways I view myself, my worth, my deservingness. 

What is that? Oh right, the familiar 'I am not good enough.' And just as I acknowledge it, a rush of emotion flushes to my forehead. Here the frustration. I know I have this trapped inside of me and I want it away, but that simply does not do the trick. In fact, the resistance only seems to make it push harder. I know it has roots that go deep down to my toes. I know that to pull on its head will only bring tension throughout my body. I am so aware of it and the fact that I don't know what to do about it creates a pounding in my head. 

But wait, what is that I hear, so subtle and soft? 'I do know?' I do know. For now my job is to acknowledge, respect, accept and love it for the ways it has served me. Loosen my attachment and for now, focus what I could grow around it, the things that serve me better now. When the time is right I will venture deep into the dark soil at which its roots first established and breath new life into them, when I am ready. The change will be felt throughout my body and it will be intense and possibly even painful at first, because it has become so embedded in my body, but the transformation that ensues will liberate all the pieces that this piece has dug its claws into. And the new life will loosen its grip. I will be free to move in ways that I forgot I was able to. I will no longer default to the self-sabitoge that feeds this rigid creature beneath my skin, but it will be love. It will set the emotion free to flow as it wishes, just like in that rare precious moment last night. 

Finding Peace Amidst the War

I've always been uncomfortable with conflict. I was the child who veered clear of it as much as I can. I was the adult who abandoned myself to keep the harmony (and still does time to time). 

One of six siblings within a ten year span, daily conflict was inevitable. Three of my siblings were easily set off and often either on the stirring end or receiving end of the fights. Three of us were pleasers and sensitive. We got along best with each other and occasionally fought with the others, but remained pretty compliant so to avoid any negative attention. I recall my sister just older than me and my brother just younger than me getting disciplined and it scared me so. But I learned young to play the cards that were expected of me to keep the peace and avoid negative attention that came of deviating from expectations. This message was not only in my family dynamics but consistent with our culture, and still is today. Positive attention for living up to others expectations. Shamed for expressing ourselves in un-liked ways. Shamed for being different, wrong, or anything other than the status quo.

I watch the world around me, more and more people coming into their voices quite aggressively. I don't know their intentions behind the advocacy and neither is it my position to judge whether their approach is right or wrong, good or bad. All I know is I am not called to use my voice in that sense. I am called to express gently, in ways that bring people back to love and harmony, in ways to validate their challenges, and in ways that do not hurt others. So when I see the division between groups of people, leaders and patrons, abiders and anti-maskers, it feels as if my heart itself is splitting in two. I see how we lose sight of the issue that seems so much larger to me, and get caught up in righteousness. My tendency when I feel powerless is to withdraw, surrender feeling as if I have no power. But in given time as I sit back, contemplation brings me home to myself, and it is only when I can remove myself from the noise that I find my voice. It is a noisy world and I have to be very intentional about making the space to do this, so that I can act from a space of my own conviction. 

In this space I  learn that my position isn't what is important in the big conflict. My actions don't determine my power. My power lies in my conviction while respecting others in theirs. I realize how caught up we get in needing to be right. Our conditioned sense of worth is tangled up with this need for righteousness. 

I feel it every time I come across someone who has a different opinion or stance than I do, my ego flairs up. I do one of two things, depending on which value is on shift in that situation. If it's harmony from which I am sourcing my sense of worthiness I start to questions myself, especially if the opposing person is someone who aligns with me in many ways, or someone I hold close to my heart and respect greatly. I doubt my own beliefs that just minutes prior I stood so firmly in, questioning my understanding. Swayed to avoid the shame of being wrong to another, I begin to abandon myself. This is a threatening place to be, especially when you have been working so hard to return to yourself. The disharmony puts me in a head-spinning anxiety and I resort to old worth-hustling patterns by needing to please and keep the peace. 

With others, my husband for example, I tend to lock down in my need to be right. I fear abandoning my position and I fear being proved 'wrong,' automatically armouring up to defend and offend. I stop hearing his view and dig my feet deep into my own arrogance and ignorance. Neither of us ends up heard nor validated in our view. It often creates a tension that mutates into other issues. We are too focused on the hurt and victimhood. We are too focused on all the ways we need to prove ourselves right, because if someone, especially someone we love and (think we) respect, their differing stance makes us wrong...creating a mountain of shame (because remember, our society doesn't accept 'otherness.'). 

However, if we were to love unconditionally, accept respectfully our differences and agree to disagree, we might open ourselves enough to each other to actually expand on our limited perspective. We might come back home to ourselves, reintegrate another viewpoint into our own and learn a thing or two. We might be able to find a mutual ground to stand in together, even in our individual differences. Not unlike the ceremonial shaking of hands between opposing teams after a competitive sporting event. What if we didn't place so much importance on being right or being the best, smartest, loudest and at the end of it could look back and simply say "good game," respecting all the players involved. Or what if we didn't wait until the end to respect each other in their opposition. Only when we can stand firmly in our highest selves do we really come from this place. For me sometimes that means stepping away from the noise of it all, from the push and pull around me that tends to knock me off my footing. And other times that means finding my footing right in the middle of the commotion, returning to myself amidst the chaos, responding from this place of purity even when it means disrupting the harmony or the current dynamic. 

I know one thing only. My highest self does not shame others. Nor does she have to defend herself, because she stands so assured in her own worth that there is no need to be further validated. She does not take on the responsibility of changing others, accepting them for where they are at. She only positions herself in the power of influence through the highest of love. Her worth is full and comes from a place greater than the need to be right or to prove others wrong. And when I can create space to embody this version of myself, it is when I feel at peace the most, and it becomes so clear to me that right and wrong actually do not exist. 

written from the inside out

I've been advised to write, the advice coming from within and from without. I notice the friction between wanting to write, even needing to and not taking action. There is a deep resistance in me that I don't quite understand, it shows up as avoidance by simply not doing. Thinking about it but not taking action. Lately the nudge is telling me that in writing every day I will help alleviate my emotional congestion. But routine is such a challenge for me to implement. I do not like to be fixed into responsibility that goes beyond what I am feeling in the moment. And even at that, I put it off often when I feel the desire or urge to write or release. I believe the resistance to be rooted more deeply, but cannot quite put my finger on it. Perhaps it does not matter? 

Yet for change to happen I typically need to understand what's at the root of the thing I want to change. I don't know whether this is a control thing, or motivation thing? I have to work extra hard to let go of the needing to know and accept the things I do not understand, trusting the flow. And other times I find that knowing or figuring out helps me to recognize the patterns holding me back and making the change from that place of understanding.

I know I am a gifted writer and I have proven to myself how releasing it can be. I recall writing a confrontational letter to a friend the day I came to one of the most important revelations in my journey. I had ended the letter admitting that my problem was I didn't trust my inner voice. I wrote that I needed to pay attention to and trust it and that this was the answer I had been so desperately seeking for some time. The words flowed through my fingertips to the keyboard like water, as if someone else was typing through my body. Yet I knew it was a message for myself disguised through this letter for my friend. I watched it take place, reread it and let out a big sigh of relief. My shoulders dropped and the waterworks began. After months of what felt like floating between identities, my foot finally found new ground. It was one of the most powerful feelings of realization that came simply from an expression beyond my conscious intention. 

When I allow it, I can experience versions of this through my writing. It usually comes more easily in conversation with a trusted companion, even through text message. It always requires a certain level of trust with the person I am conversing with that allows me to let go of any concern for judgement.  The greater the rapport, the more easily words flow, and I often re-read what I have wrote to take in the wisdom that had just spelled out of me. Lately I have started saving some of my text messages. I receive feedback from my confidants that I have a special talent for articulating experiences that they have trouble putting words to. I suppose this is one of my gifts, and something I would love to expand on. 

So if it is judgement or concern for judgement that births my reservation, I suppose the thing that keeps me from writing without an audience could be the fear/avoidance of my own judgement. Gah! This is such a tough one and one of my greatest barriers since the beginning of my conscious journey. In fact my earliest awareness came from statements I noticed were being relayed to me from my trusted supports. "You are really hard on yourself," they would say, in one way or another. The critical voice is loud and ingrained deeply in me, a core wound, one could say (and quite very human). Most of my life I thought this critical voice was serving me in ways I now realize were actually holding me back from my greater potential. So I have been chipping away diligently at this boulder for the last four years, but it's foundation is rooted especially deep. I have to make special effort to notice the critical voice of not enough-ness, or lack of trust in the merit of the information that flows from within me (as opposed to information coming from outside of me). For example, leaning into the trust in this little realization I just came to at the top of this paragraph even in the light that I seem to have pulled it out of my yin yang. It has been a slow trust-building process with myself, but I must remember that I am unraveling re-wiring thirty-plus years of doing. 

Today I will take a chance to believe that I have great knowledge in me, to understand myself and others in ways guided by my intuition over what I have been told. To consider that everyone else doesn't always know better than me, especially when it comes to what's best for me. There are times I may be wrong, but I am learning that when I lean into this trust, more than not something is gained (regardless of whether I am right or wrong). I am learning that not being right is not the greatest stake of risk. The risk is in not being truthful. Not trusting my own truth, my own intuition, my own ability to make decisions, my own knowing. So I take chances, through a gained understanding that life has lessons no matter which path you take, which conviction you lean into. There is no perfection because everything is perfect in its imperfection. There is no wrong and right, because every path we choose offers opportunity. We are not here to be perfect and right, nor to take the easy way out. I believe that we are here to grow and learn and continue our journey across lifetimes as part of a greater evolution. (I could be misunderstanding it all, but that is beside the point) I have found such value in the trust I have gained through these knowing bits of myself, the stuff that comes out of mystery from the inside out. It seems to be working for me, so I think I'll continue to roll with it.

What Are We Waiting For?

April 16, 2020 (edited November 24, 2020)

I'm curiously observing the different ways people are taking in this quarantine. Some are loving the change in pace, the quality time with their family, the release of expectations. Others are having a difficult time with the new normal, missing the security of what they knew before, and overwhelmed by the new demands put on their life. But underneath it all, regardless of where we are each at, lies a sense of uncertainty for what the future looks like. We've all got it in sight. I hear expressions like 'when this blows over,' and when 'things go back to normal.' Beneath it all, however, there seems to be a consensus that things will different than what we knew before the Caronavirus hit. That a shift is happening that will alter the future into something different than the past we knew. And we all sit here, in the cue, waiting for that future to come. I've said it myself and I have heard it numerous times, I can't wait until this is all over. I can't wait until the world starts up again. Especially on those hard days, when we are overwhelmed by the fears, anxiety and overwhelm before us.

It hit me, the other day, how much time I, and many around me, spend waiting for the future. Not just now, but I have spent much of my life in this state. Always waiting for the next big thing, and when I had nothing to look forward to I would start to feel depressed. The realization of how much energy I spend on this makes me kind of sad. It makes me realize how much of now I am missing out on when my head is in the future or past, wishing for something different than what is in front of me. This grass is greener mentality is rarely satisfied, and when it is, it is fleeting. So when that time comes, we can only speculate what will be and no matter how miserable you feel in the current situation, there is no guarantee 'when this all blows over' that it will be any better. Will we just find other problems to obsess on? I tell you, I have been pretty darn good at that, especially when things are hard. Maybe there is a survival strategy in this, to maintain some kind of hope in getting through tough times. But I can't help but notice when it starts to take away from the appreciation of the now. If our lens is so focused on what's going wrong, and what we want that we don't have, what are we not seeing? As long as we are waiting for something different, I believe we will never really relish in the present moment, and if we spend a lifetime with this lens on, we never really gain or maintain an appreciation for the life we have. Because now is all that we really have, the past and future are only in our imaginations. And trust me, sometimes you need that imagination to get you through the day, but it is my hope that you don't spend most of your time there. Because I know as much as anyone the disappointment and depression that can manifest through this lens.

So what if we stopped talking about when this is all over? What if we were told the rest of life would remain as it is now? How does that change our realities? How does that change our daily life, the things we focus on, the current view? I can't help but wonder, would we do life differently? Would we notice the things we have to appreciate more? Would we be more present with our families? Would we start to focus on new opportunities, do more things we love, show more support and love to others. Wait...I see that happening already.

So, I propose to the world out there, rather than asking what we are waiting for, to a subtle rewording of what are we not waiting for?

Its funny how when options are taken away from us, others come into clear view. These options have always been there, but suddenly they are not camouflaged by the plethora of things that we previously used to define ourselves. Like the future. And public opinion. Now we are seeing ourselves differently. Have you noticed you forget to look in the mirror some days, or choose a completely different wardrobe when you dress for yourself as opposed to others? Have you noticed you have different expectations of yourself when you feel the world is not watching? It is a bit of a relief, isn't it, removing the expectation of who you think the world needs you to be, look like, do? It is here, that we start to connect with who we really are, beneath the public persona we put out there. I think this is important to notice. To pay attention to the comfort it brings you to choose according to yourself rather than someone else. This awareness in contrast allows us to see how far we remove ourselves from our authenticity to be seen a certain way, to fit in. And while, perhaps, there is a degree of our public persona that serves us, we can see how much it can take away from us too, from feeling comfortable and belonging. It is a hungry seeking that is never quite satisfied. Because the food we are feeding ourselves is made of cardboard, its not real. It'll never satisfy as long as we are eating cardboard. We will make up for it in ways we aren't aware of until we find out what the real food is. To know what it is like to provide what you are seeking for yourself. To bring on feelings of love through your connection with your own heart. To realize, with the right tools (you already have them), you have access to grace, compassion, love for yourself any time you need it, if you are willing. And to be in charge of validating yourself. Now that's security.

So we realize we have a choice. To keep waiting for the outer world to change so that we get the things we have, in attempt to gain some kind of control over it. Or to start unlocking and exploring what is inside of us, so we can see and make the most of what we already have. It's just a subtle shift in where we are looking. It really is that simple. Not easy, but it is simple, and incredibly rewarding to take your own power back. And when that happens you find your unshakeable.

So with that I ask, what are you not waiting for?

Choosing Grace

I am fueled with purpose! Here to give, receive, contribute to the important greater picture. I have so much to offer and my energy is contagious! Smiles come easily and generously. I engage genuinely with everyone I converse with. I am a powerful light filled force leaving a radiant energy in my path!

I knew I was swimming in it but I didn’t want to admit it. Being, feeling, accelerating felt too good to pass it up to a manic state, I wanted to own it as a success, a showing of the work I have been doing. Knowing all too well, however, that to take full ownership of this high meant very well that I would have to do the same for the low that would follow. But I kept it under the radar to a point. And any enthusiasms that burst out of me I allowed in moderation, I allowed them to drive me, my days and my interactions. I let them be a positive force in my days and hoped I wasn’t too much for anyone. Sluff it off as this is me, and if it’s too much for them, maybe that’s not my business. But I headed caution in wrapping my identity around the way I felt, as I had the sense that it was fleeting. I know the cycle, and life doesn’t get to feel this easeful all the time. So to just enjoy the current that has picked me up and carries me in the direction I wish to go. I sometimes leave interactions a little out of breath and aware that I did most of the talking, the expressing. Feeling a little questionable about what impression I may have made on them, that the out of control part of me slipped a bit. And again, I remind myself of the perfectly imperfection I humanly am, and just take advantage of the momentum fueling me and all that I am immersed in. Partly convinced that I will carry this momentum into new starts, partly aware of my limits, a cautionary whisper to give attention to boundaries.

Then the tell-signs start to leak in. Waking up feeling tired, blah. But find the thermal current and sail eventually, it just takes a bit into my day to find that familiar momentum. I keep up. Then I start to forget. Nothing specific, just random details, or what I scheduled for tomorrow, as if parts of my brain are covered with fuzzy static. Magnetic thoughts, the same go-to fantasies that bring me feelings of comfort in sad moments, and sad in comfortable moments. Losses, what-if’s, anywhere but here and now, drifting into alternate realities. Criticism find the microphone, assumptions of rejection and worst case scenarios. It is here when I am confronted with the reality of the sinking ship, slowly and steadily, but inevitable, seawater swirling around my ankles. I notice I start to avoid bedtime and sleep in. I pace in dissatisfaction of lack of productivity melded with muddy concentration. I ask my partner to repeat what he just told me, slower, as the words tangled as they enter my comprehension. The list that was created while in full power mode still applies, but I start to fall behind, as my ability to function at an optimal pace falters.

This is where it counts. What I do here will determine what’s next. I’ve been through this cycle so many times I know my options. There are two:

One.

I cling to the coulds and want-to’s, which have now transformed into shoulds and have-to’s so tightly my flame fizzles out, my flicker goes dark. I am in a cloud of sad. I bask in the shame that confirms the notion I am not good enough. I know this place well. There’s a security in it, in declaring victim status, a reason to bring out the invisibility cape and retreat. I look for all the ways I can identify with this state, claiming blame, claiming shame, claiming lame.I own it and assume irresponsibility all at once. I latch to the spiral that confirms my insignificance and isolate. Nobody understands me, I have nothing to offer, I am not worthy of being loved. Still I long to be saved. I wallow in the non-truths, the not-haves, the impossibles. I stay here a while, until things get bad in my marriage, or the kids start to change how they interact with me. Until something seemingly important enough finds a switch, and in the abrupt change of light I snap out of it, and start the treacherous climb back out. Only in surrendering to the force pushing me down do I start to drift into the pockets that have somehow dodged the current, and start to rise up. The less I push back the more naturally I float to the surface. I find air again. I start to breath again. I survive. I start to repair the holes in my raft, looking back trying to find traces of grace in what I just experienced.

Two.

My flame is smaller but still there and my most important job is to protect it from going out. So I shift in expectations, slow down and prioritize my needs. It changes dynamics in my relationships a little, but I know enough to know it is needed to ease through this. Shoulds and have-to’s are no longer in my vocabulary, or at least they are hushed. I pay cautious attention to what my heart is calling for, choosing to love to nurture the ache I feel inside over the expectation to nurture what I so easily took care of in my previous momentum. My boat needs less weight so I let some go. Relieve expectations, set aside my need to please, shift my focus inward enough to stay tuned into my environment. My attention is balanced between tending to my needs and hauling water out of my boat, managing safe levels for the time being, until I find the tools for greater repair. I rest when I feel the need to rest. I say no when I feel my energy sink at the thought of saying yes. I pay close attention to what weighs me down and what lifts me up moment to moment, responding accordingly and not taking hold of the strings the shame tries to hand over when I choose myself. I choose not to take company to those worth-crushing voices that call up to me, and laugh off their attempts. I know this game. I know what you are trying to do. Not fallin’ for it today, chum. Today I choose love and grace. I choose to define my worth innately, not how others may perceive me, not by the stories, nor how my level of functioning compares now to yesterday.

...

I notice something in option two, which is not as familiar to me. 

Moments of bliss. Moments of joy, mixed in between the sorrowful layers. And with these moments,a sort of permission in the letting go. In the un-identifying, un-judging. Permission to feel, to bounce between ups and downs beneath this overlaying cloud I normally call depression. But to let go of the label, is to release the grips of it. To let go of the depressed-not depressed duality mentality brings an allowance to feel the moment. Making room to move between sadness and joy in a moment’s notice.

This is OK?

When I am allowed to be what I am, there is no expectation to be anything else. Expectations released, judgement released, only leaving room for the grace of being, and feelings flow freely. No one more or less important than another when we remove the expectations; they just are,I just am.

And this IS OK!

A vessel opens inside of me and I can breath more easily, regardless of how I am perceived, regardless of circumstances, regardless of yesterday...regardless. A softening forming in my congested body. I find bliss even in sadness, comfort in acceptance, and full immersion in the moment of here and now. Even in the appearingly mundane surroundings, miracle hints through the fullness of presence. What I felt before and what I will feel later do not have to define what I feel now.

A brightening intelligence in me letting go of the security that ties me to the past and future imaginings, even finding thrills in the freedom of moving with such ease through the current current. Of letting go of the need for control, by reaching towards acceptance and trust. Acceptance of the now, trust in the here. Significance rises in this current state I find myself in, purpose in the slowing down, returning into myself.

Bliss accompanied by sorrow. Ha! It is all so curious, isn’t it? When you can let go of the world how you grew up to know, and open to something new in the flow. It turns out the significance isn’t out in those far away places from which I have retreated, but within arm’s reach any time I choose to choose.

I’'ll take option two, please.

To Log On or Off....Again

I'm so overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed by everything going on around me and everything going on within me. There really is no escaping from it. But maybe there are things I can do to lessen it. Sometimes I do that by not leaving my house, sometimes even not leaving my bed. I escape into fixes, some are healthy, others not. One in particular has been coming to battle in my conscience. I have been feeling an urge to get off social media again. But then the idea of it brings on panic. Which, probably, is the very reason I should log off. 

I have a lot of problems with social media and its play on our mental health, yet I am in there with a shirt as dirty as the next guy. I'm sort of aware of the ways I am being manipulated by the platform, and my consented participation (and refusal to read the fine print) is kind of an agreement to let myself be manipulated. But then I get a sense that I am not as aware as I think. So I am aware that I am unaware of many ways technology is making me mad. 

I've taken breaks from Facebook and I can say I have had no regrets in doing so. The only regrets I have are the ways I re-entered the scene just to get convincingly sucked back in and folded ever so neatly right back into those addictive patterns. I can't help but notice that part of this familiar cycle I am in, willingly manipulated by the algorithms of my phone. yuck. I suppose though, its like any addiction. Even through admittance, the 'it' still controls the joystick.

So I have myself, from an observer perspective, sitting here in my house, surrounded by my overwhelm, contemplating my next move. Do I quit Facebook? Panic. But all the what ifs! What if I need Facebook to sell my art or make connections? But what if I need a Facebook account to participate in this online course I am taking? But what if I am not in the loop? What if I miss out!? What if I get lonely? What if I have a RESPONSIBILITY to stay on for everyone who follows me (aaaaaaaaagh!)?

Ha! I know the thing making me most lonely is probably social media...and my sense of self, which some days hangs on the marionette strings of social media. 

(Meanwhile I ignore the subject of Instagram, because obviously Instagram is not a problem. Even though it is run by the same company. And probably uses the same manipulations. And likely does the same tricks to keep pulling me in. But no, Instagram isn't a problem.)

This what if anxiety or FOMO (fear of missing out) comes from the addiction, all this behaviour I choose to feed the addiction feeds the anxiety, a perpetual cycle so loud that it drowns out voice of the logic. So I know all this. I am subtly aware, yet I still choose it. At what point do I make myself accountable, and at what point do I take this accountability to make a change? I have taken on a victim role enough times in my life to know its limited capacity that confines me to its illusionary boundaries.

So what if I quit social media? It seems a little goofy this is even a blog-worthy topic, as my embarrassed fingers type this out. But I cannot deny how big a part of my life social media has become, so yes, I guess it kinda is. What if I replaced the time I spend scrolling with sketching....working towards a dream I have rather than escaping from it into my smartphone? What if I used that time learning a new joke from my 8 year old, or teaching my 10 year old to make a friendship bracelet, or building a lego truck with my son? What would I be missing? Or should I say, what wouldn't I be missing?

Zooming out on my life helps to put things into perspective. From a birds eye view, taking this here and now as a blip in time, allows me to see what is important . What will serve me and mine not just now, but down the road, and the bigger picture? It also helps with the overwhelm, suddenly down-playing all the important-seeming stuff around me on the ground I stand upon. Truthfully, at the end of my life this minor debate may not matter much. What will matter is that I did the best I could with what I had. And what I have now is choice, neither right or wrong, but each a gateway to separate paths. 

I close my eyes and tune in. I think about staying on Facebook. It's comfortable in an overwhelming kind of way. Perhaps the overwhelm is part of the addiction. It's familiar and what I currently know. Then I think about logging off. It's uncomfortable...but yet there's a sense of liberation in this prospect, a detachment of the strings on my will, a shift in focus. And when I listen a little deeper, there is a quiet yet resounding voice, undoubtedly saying, "do it."