It has been a long time since I wrote anything for the sake of blogging. I have this whole Author driven goal in mind and I suppose I forget sometimes that my heart lies in free writing, or creative writing as most would say. There have been many things going on in my life in the past year, all great. Not entirely, but truthfully everything I have endured up until this point has had some bitter sweet end. The life lessons of loss and heart ache make me every bit the Johanna I am today.
A small pang of heart ache threw off my equilibrium and admittedly it took me a minute to catch my bearings. I am afraid that I have been quite fraudulent in my expression. With the aforementioned in mind, heartache does not do much to help my creative mind. I don’t write songs but I do write poems on occasion, this past year my poetry sky rocketed. The best of my poems is not past me, but the sulking sorrow of a broken heart has excaped my writing and I am starting to feel just like my old self again and even better yet, my writing is starting to feel like me again.
The people I surround myself with have provided me with a much needed personal inventory.
The other week I went to bowling with a couple of friends. I invited my co-worker to join us. I felt like he’d benefit from a night out with a few 20 somethings. By the end of the night, it was I who was benefiting from the outing. I had been having a hard week because I came to a realization that I was not entirely happy with. He and I were talking about all sorts of things (in between his hiccups). He then said something that he probably thought meant nothing, but it truthfully put everything into perspective for me.
I am very good about controlling my feelings. No one makes me angry, no one makes me sad. I choose whether or not things affect me negatively or positively. When it comes to relationships, I am mostly the same but when you are invested in something/someone you shift your priorities a bit. This is what the conversation with my co-worker (I rather call him friend because he is a person that I consider more than a 9-5 person) was about. I was telling him about how things ended in a past relationship and how hard I took it, and how I had just encountered what seemed to be the hardest part of a break up (if you can call it that), that moment you know the other person has moved on. I went on to tell him that I imagined it would be harder for the other person but apparently it had not because I was somewhat stagnant and he was moving along perfectly. Then simple brilliance ensued. He said, “The way you perceive things is just your reality, it is not always the other persons reality.” I always imagined things to be perfect, pristine and wonderful but the truth is, that was my clouded reality of the situation. So in brief, what I thought was perfect, was only perfect in my eyes . . . so if in my eyes it was perfect, it could also be over and done with whenever I wanted.
I sat in the car with him for maybe three hours just chatting and getting to know each other better. It reminded me of the nights I spent talking the night away with my best friend Jay. It was nice to just talk, though I kept saying I talked a lot but he did most of the talking. However, I feel that often the best things I have to say are in silence. The very next morning I felt a million times better. I very much needed that decompression because my broken heart had been a distraction.
To no surprise, a great part of me is distracted, at all times. There isn’t much I don’t think about, plan and/or worry about, so I am taking a hint from my own words, “resist resisting to exist.” Which is probably the best unintentional line I ever came up with. For the people with the cheap seats in the back, “resist resisting to exist,” means to stop keeping yourself from living life by fearing it. On the positive flip side, constantly wishing and dreaming has kept me from enjoying all that the ground has to offer, so I aim high but try to remain grounded as much as possible.
I don’t know what I have accomplished in writing this tonight, but I know that I am often controlled and encased in my own self proclamation, so it feels good to be honest with myself and whoever is reading.
It is okay to be broken, when you are on the way to healing and almost complete.