I was reading Gary Zukav’s “Mind of a Soul” today and the message of choice stuck with me. It is as if choice is creation. That what we ch0ose or do not choose we are creating our own reality.
I had to put the book down for a minute. I knew I was the type that didn’t like to make choices. I just wanted life to happen somehow in my favor. And when I think of all the chaos that has happened to me over the last decade, I would say I didn’t choose any of it. But I did choose by not choosing. I have always been afraid to decide, thinking somehow or another I’d make the wrong decision and pay the consequences. I figure if I let others make my decisions, and then I could just blame them in the end. My latest drama is very much an example of that. If I would’ve trusted my own instincts and not listened to others, I would not be homeless. But now I have to deal with the consequence no matter what.
I was thinking to myself earlier that for some reason I’m really calm in crisis. It’s when it’s quiet that I start acting up or out. The thought scared me because I thought my life’s goal was to get to a place of no more drama. Yet, I still have a need for it.
Where am I going? What am I doing? Why am I still writing? What is it that I want? Do I still want it? Is the passion still there? Does anymore care. Do I even care? I have all those questions going on in my head.
But I know I still got something to say. I haven’t said it yet. It’s been so unfocused. It’s been so distracted.
The complicated context of the "N" word.
11 years ago
2 comments:
i've really wanting to read that book. although i have 2 books now that i'm not reading. it's good to know someone is reading it though.
Recently my mother told me that her what she wanted the most, as a parent, was for her children to feel like they had a home they could always go to. I told her the truth, I hadn't felt that way for years.
When you've lived in a car, then a seedy motel, then a center for battered women when your mother lies that she was abused because she has no more money and needs to put a roof over her children's head...all when you have family who could, but didn't, in the same town, it changes you. It angers you, deep within, like the fires of a furnace.
And it flares up every now and then, like when you first see those bastards who could have been there, or when that woman you struggled with seemingly turns her back on you. But within it remains.
A cold fire.
And you try to let that shit go, but some days, it's just too damn hard.
I feel you, brotha
& wish you
[luck]
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