Candles on the Path

What is it that calls me forth and what is it that i merely use to fill an empty space? what is it that drags me down or makes that space grow empty, not in terms of making room, but of a dulling ache, in simple terms what are my true likes and dislikes, terms i have been taught to believe that we should not use. but what makes my heart truly sing? Yes, maybe it should all come from within, the flame eternally lit, but what is fuel for the fire, and what helps the fire last. what is just a piece of paper that will provide a momentary burst of light, but that dies down quickly, adding little. and what just smoulders, or suppresses the flame, and what suffocates it or douses it? Some answers come more easily, but in truth i know not what wood or other material to use. or where to base my fire, the hearth in which it may burn.
All too often i have believed that i should like something, or do so more than i do. like is not the word, for the absence of this feeling is not dislike but bland. and also i have felt wrong for having interests or calls that i do – listening more to the shoulds of outsiders, than to myself, and myself, well which self is that, for much has been incorporated into my beliefs, but not really to my heart and soul. but i do not hear the truth within as i listen to the chatter in my mind, the stories about who i am, the stories that i have created in my life.
In many ways i am like a young child who is exploring the world, figuring out just what is what, what is “good” and “bad” and indifferent. i have been like that at times these past weeks with my body as i felt it restructure for a while, but then i felt a return to a familiar – is the familiar truly the same as it was. but i would explore, and still do a bit, awkward in its form – how does something truly feel and how can i move around.
And i am like that here too, but also find myself returning to the familiar, going for what i believe i will like, often finding it empty. giving into temptation or is it learning as well? i guess it depends whether of not i keep on making the same or similar mistakes. Like tonight i spent money on dinner which proved to be not worth it, filled the stomach but i do not know if it really nourished the soul. And what nourishes the soul – and that is often the simple things, but i keep on going for the grand.
But was coming here something that feeds the soul or not? or was staying too long the not? for transformation has occurred, but can it last.
And why too often do i chase the emtpinesss, knowing that what fuels me will not endure, or really help me shine, but i do it anyways. and the harder i try to break away from the familiar rut, the deeper it becomes – for i am often not moving towards but attempting to move away.
As a child i learned not to pursue what i wanted, and then not to even state it. to go for second or third choice instead, not too too far away, but never quite it, and as i got older i became ingrained and i did not realize it, or told this story too many times but never rewriting the script. as a child when the family would travel we would go out to dinner, and i would often be asked what i wanted – italian i might say for it was one of my favourites, but then it would be – are you sure, not japanese or seafood instead and the options would be listed – i said what i wanted without examing them all, for it was what called, but then as the debate would ensue, i would begin to second guess my decision, oh you dont want italian, what is it you want, italian is fine but there is ….. and i would try to guess what it was that i was to pick since it was obvious my first decision was wrong, or was somehow not acceptable -to insist on it was to be selfish, and i longed for them to then tell me what it was. at the end we might go for italian, but i was so stressed by then that i wanted nothing at all, any hunger had been vanished and the treat became a nightmare. And i was asked when we were going someplace new “will it be good’ and i had to answer “i dont know” and the options would be listed again – but if i never had experience any of it, how was i to know, but somehow i felt i must, and if it wasn;t then i was to blame. if i thought it would be bad, i wouldn;t have suggested it, but the truth was i did not know. that game i have played with myself for so long, now filling all roles, and i have told this story so many times, but not altered its plot. How often have i not listened to that voice that “knew” – have i ever really listened at all – and how many times have i just settled for something else instead, or gone for the second, third, twentieth or thirtieth choices just to rule them out, to examine the options as i believed i must, and somewhere along the line the goal or choice had been lost, and how often have i not decided, because i feel that i “must know what will come” and i don’t. And often by the time i get the choice, i am so beaten down, stressed and exhausted, that it feels empty anyways, or it is insisted upon and all else turns sour and i regret having wanted it at all. and that voice being silenced or just not heard or getting stressed stops speaking, to the point i no longer know what calls. and all too often i do not have the support i need, the hand to hold, as i uncertainly walk down the road – for all too often it has been a battleground. or a choice at one time is held to be a choice for all, and if i made a mistake or a new discovery, i am held to the initial demand, like shrimp for chistmas which i would feed the dog, and they would come again and again after i asked for them no more.
but this is history, how do i alter the plot. how do i remove the anxiety and the panic attacks that come every time i try to take a step. how do i have faith and learn to see clear.
writing that i can feel the tension within, the molecules changing once again, the desire to go back and play endless games of solitaire.
and too often i have written about such things, and the writing that calls and nourished me at first ends up dragging me down. like a walk when i becomes an endless wander, or a retreat when it becomes hiding away, or travel and freedom when it becomes homelessness with no place to land.
And to turn the lens, to turn the lens. I cannot think it through, for i feed the story,. to feel it through, listen, trust, grow, fall, get up again, alter the lens. and to know that it is not one thing, and to know that i need not have a definitive answer, to have faith and quietude to hear the call, and then to follow it with faith. to trust in myself, to trust.