Its interesting the way our minds create our reality. The way our perception of things changes what it means to us. Its easy to ignore things, toss them aside and discard any deeper meaning. Having empathy for another persons pain is something humans are supposed to be good at, right? Somehow I doubt it. Any explanation of a feeling can always be boiled down to something simple and generally stupid. Or can it? I mean, if you consider the poor starving children in Africa and Haiti and so many other places, wouldn't you have empathy for them? But, then again, do you have to be starving with your life in shambles to have any kind of a bad feeling?
My life is about as far from shambles as a life can be. I've never experienced any really horrible hardships or disasters. I'm a lower-middle class American white girl with a fairly functional family, a wonderful best friend, a sweet and caring boyfriend, and a fluffy cat. I go to an ordinary public high school where there have been no suicides, shootings, or very much crime at all. I sleep at least 8 hours every night and have hardly any homework. I'm an artist whom everyone says has talent and I have a very comfortable water bed. I'm a generally happy person with only a medium amount of drama in my social life. I have a good relationship with my parents and brother, even if they can be annoying at times. I have a few really close friends and several close ones. I believe in love, the kindness of humanity, and the simple things. I spend a lot of time being silly and giggly.
But that isn't all that I am. I have a mind that thinks. And that is a problem in itself. Because of the things I believe in I change how I perceive people and the world. But I am never fooled by what I think things should be. It's as though there are several layers to the world and I have eyes for each one. I see the surface, the dust of the every day, the face people show. I see the tenuous ties which people string between them and the undercurrent of feelings. Really, feelings are written on peoples faces. She's annoyed by this subject, you can tell by the way her eyes go dull and her smile stiffens. He thinks shes cute, you can tell by the way his eyes flick back to her every few minutes. But I can also see the very base of it all. Of all the people I know, one thing is true. They all think about themselves the most. Our lives are all intertwined, but first an foremost we live our individual life, think our own individual thoughts, and try to shape everything else around us. My dearest friend, so good at listening and caring, can only step out of her own life for a minute to hear about mine. It's hard, to leave our own life behind and care about someone else's as much as our own. The truth is, most people can't do it. Of course, we can watch movies and read books and pretend to step in another's shoes. But always, underneath, we are ourselves and when we stop reading we go back to our own reality.
It's especially difficult to see another person's point of view, if it isn't the same as our own. And then even if we do see it, we dismiss it because it isn't "right".
I've often wondered about my mind (because like everyone else I am too caught up in my own life to think about anything else)and why it thinks the way it does. I've wondered why it is that I feel alone, ignored, different. Why underneath all the beauty and happiness there's a strange swirling black pit. Oh it could be many things, a depression that waxes and wanes. Perhaps it's truth, and I have yet to accept it completely. Perhaps its the strange part that takes over my brain and makes it hard to see reality clearly. After all, what is reality? The place our bodies and senses exist? Where are our minds? I can live in a book, in a scripted life, just as easily as I can live in this one. The only difference is how much longer this one takes. How can I explain that I don't like this reality?
Perhaps it all comes down to purpose. The thing people have struggled with for centuries. The difference is, that I have decided my purpose. I know what I want out of my life. I want a husband, a beautiful house in the countryside in Europe, two children to love and raise and hold, animals to connect with and care for, the chance to travel and see the world for what it really is and not just what I see on tv. I want to experience this world, this reality, completely and for myself, so that I will like it more. But then, everyone says the world is in shambles. War, famine, hatred, greed are everywhere, aren't they? But of course, just living isn't really a purpose is it? Do you think it's true that everyone wants to change the world? That everyone believes they have a deeper meaning? I don't know, I don't know everyone. But I do know that I will try to make my life have meaning. If I see the world and live and love people for what they ARE and not what I think they are, isn't that meaning? Can I help people by loving them? What does it mean to love? Is it possible for someone to be selfless? Would trying to be selfless actually mean that I was selfishly giving myself purpose?
Why doesn't anyone really listen anymore? Why doesn't anyone try and really feel another person's pain? Is it because we are trapped in our own minds and have too much to feel already?
I don't know how to stand up for myself. I don't really know what it means to stand up for yourself. All I know, is that I don't want to hurt anyone. But that isn't possible. People hurt, no matter what you do. The only way to never hurt anyone is to never be born. But just because I hurt people, doesn't mean I can't try and help them does it?
I complain a lot. I know this about myself. Sometimes people get annoyed with my complaining. It's a bad habit, something I must have started because I had run out of things to say. I like to think I have a positive outlook on life even though I complain. But I do feel restless. I feel tied to this place and I don't like it. Tied to my life by rope of steel, too strong to cut in one swift blow. I have nerves running up and down it, and as bits of it get cut I cry in pain. I cry for my childhood, now only memories. I cry for my house that I will soon leave. I cry for the change that seems to happen every day. Sometimes new strings are tied. I am tied to my best friend, solidly and truly. She is not a fixed object however. I know I will carry her through the rest of my life no matter where we go. It is the same tie I feel for my family. Of course, my family is tied mostly as a unit, and as we slowly break up and go our separate places, bits of string will break and hurt. I am also tied to fixed objects, like my house and city. It is my home, right? But soon I will have to move away, and one day I will make my own home. The time in between will hurt, I'm sure.
I am also tied to my boyfriend. I send love across our string and try to make it thicker, stronger. But I'm scared. I'm scared of the changing future and his changing mind. A life partner is no small thing. A sister is easy, a family is easy. Families grow all the time. A life partner is solid, complete, and singular. It is a decision which takes careful thought and true commitment. I'm scared to fully commit. I'm scared, not because I think I will find someone better, but because I'm afraid he will. I'm afraid he will change his mind. This is a fear I must get past. If I can get past this fear, then I can accept everything about him, truly and completely. If I hold on to the fear, it will always be there and always cause problems. There is a tiny nugget of myself I have held back in fear. It is that nugget which I must contend with.
I am one of those strange people who don't believe in God or an afterlife or anything like that. I believe in Love. I believe that love is the most powerful thing in the world and can overcome anything. But, as all stories say, only if it is True Love. I have a doubt, a fear, a nugget which is stopping me from believing truly. It is a matter of trust. I think he has held back that nugget too, and because of that tiny doubt, I have held a bit of me back. "How can I be sure?" It asks, "How can I be sure he won't change his mind, won't leave me?"
I can't. This is the simple truth of course. I can't be sure. I can only trust him. But I can be sure of myself. Or can I? How can I know what I will feel in the future? My nugget tells me to stay the course, go away to school and become my own person and love will either work out or not. And so my brain battles with the concept of love being all powerful and overcoming all obstacles. If I go away, love should overcome, yes? But then the doubt doubles back and says, "who says that he feels the same? Perhaps his love is more strained and unsure and if you go away it will stretch so thin that it snaps? After all he is only a teenage boy." And so my brain thinks that perhaps love means staying with that person no matter what. Waiting around for a year so we can be together... The battle goes on, the decision unmade. And so long as I withhold that part of myself, I will be afraid of little arguments and small miscommunications and I will be jealous.
And so, like everyone else, it all boils down to what is happening in my life, right now.
But is that such a bad thing, really?
How can I know?
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thoughtful
apathetic
busy
