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It seems like finding our ‘true north’ is near-impossible at times. The harder we try to find our way…to chart another course, the more we tend to get stuck in the mud of the monotonous…everyday life. I know there are many others out there in the world, like us, who long for la Sprezzatura; as the Italians refer to that certain ease of life and making difficult matters seem easy.
As I observe the norm of the majority, I see that…like us, most folks in America and abroad tend to box themselves into a way of life that is rather impossible at times to maintain. Like trying to escape quicksand, the more they make the more they spend. I ask myself: why? It really makes no sense at all, yet most of us just keep on keeping on, like robots programmed to do something over and over and over again. Where’s the fun? Where’s the adventure? Where’s the…life, in that? Still…I see no reason to work one’s life away (the only one we get) for stuff and material possessions one might never get the time to enjoy. It’s the sad truth–the American way! For us, me and my family, it’s the wrong way.
Yesterday, my husband got up…had a bite to eat–a taco I had just made–and he went sailing. It was a beautiful morning to be on the water, moving along under power of the invisible. To me, there is nothing more exuberating than when the wind is coaxing us along on its wings, when we are being carried on the water by the mysterious force that has never been seen with the naked eye. Sailing is beautiful in-and-of itself; so peaceful, so powerful, so intoxicating. To me…sailing is really living!
Looking back through history, sailboats were a means to another seashore, the mode of transportation, the only mode of transport. The captain would chart his course, hoist the sails, and let the wind take him to where he needed to land. It wasn’t a sport, it was a way of life. I feel that modern way of life has lost its luster to much extent. The passion is gone, that certain ease of life is missing, we’ve yet to find that certain Kefi, the Greeks know so well. Like sailors of long-past-days, we have-yet to find our True North.
It’s really not as hard as it seems; all we must do is sit…think…feel. You see…? If you sit and allow your mind to wander, relax and see the things you love to do–a past place visited, a place you’ve been, something you’ve done or experienced–you’ll know you’ve found that one thing, or your true self when it all lines up. First the thought comes to mind, then your heart starts to race…you feel a rush of excitement, the adrenaline starts to pump, and you feel more alive…even younger! THAT is the thing for you; your true North.
When you find it…never let it go. For if,or when, you do…you will cease to live in a sense. Your world will turn several shades of gray; it will lack color. But then, if you allow yourself, you’ll let your thoughts find your ‘happy place’, and you’ll chart your course…no matter the obstacles in your path. You will look back on your former life, the robotic…monotonous…for-naught lifestyle you’d been accustomed to, and you’ll feel a sense of relief that you did it; you stepped out of the norm and you found your Kefi. And…you’ll finally feel free!
*This life we’re in, it ain’t worth living. The life we love is worth fighting for* — The Big Seashore by Gypsy Vin Rose (http://www.gypsyvinrose.com)
Each day, I try to wake up with a brand-new perspective on life–I love to see the sunrise on golden pond. And I must admit, there are many days I awake to find myself not seeing the brighter side of things; like yesterday…when I had allowed myself to become downtrodden from events in the past
which no longer matter in the future. I tell myself, ‘I cannot change what has already come-to-pass’, but I can alter how I cope with such adversities of life.
I know it sounds rather cliche’, but Each Day really is a New Beginning.
Many people wait for the New Year to bring change to their selves or surroundings, but I choose to make it happen on a daily basis. I have to…because I am the only one who has to live in my skin.
So…if I don’t like something about ‘me’, I chisel away at the unacceptable part of myself and start working on molding the new & improved ‘me’ into shape. Sounds a bit funny I guess, but if you sit and think about these words I write…you will see that we could all use a bit of molding, chiselling, reshaping from time to time.
I find, following close examination, that sometimes I scrutinize myself and everyone around me way too much. I have no control over what others do, but how I respond to things is all on me. I realize I am too sensitive; as my mother always told me. I need to develop a ‘thicker skin’, so to speak. We all do, I guess…every now and again.
In the end…all we are really left with is the very thing we came into this world with–ourselves and the ones who love us most…if we’re lucky.
Which brings me back to what really matters to me in my immediate life; I see my children…their beautiful faces–two of whom I miss so much my heart feels like it is bleeding. I see my husband–the man who wakes up daily to trudge off to a job he hates more and more each day…for pay he sometimes doesn’t even get on time. I hear our daughter say “Bye Daddy”, every time he opens the door.
It makes me sad. Day after day, my time is spent without him; except for weekends; which fly-by in a glance. Day after day, I miss the rhythm of our old Volkswagen Camper Van humming down the highways and biways, looking forward to the next town…the next new discovery or adventure. I miss the sunrise over a new horizon, though I love the one I see on cloudless days. I miss the feel of tiny grains of sand, sifting softly between my toes; the big seashore is calling.
I miss my Mom…I miss my Dad; though they have both been gone too long. Losing your ‘Life’s Blood’, the one’s who gave you life, leaves you feeling like you have no home, like you belong to no one anymore, like you are only half-alive. God forbid, if-ever anyone has ever lost a child; well…I can’t imagine that. I only know that such a loss…to me, would leave me barely alive at all.
I know I ramble on a bit, but that’s just how my thoughts have always worked. I write and write and write…hoping I’ll find the feelings I bury so deep within myself. I’ve never really learned to cope with some of my deepest pains. Perhaps…I never really have grown up after all.
*Never Lose Your Inner-Child*
It’s always exciting, though sometimes a bit scary, to be the new kid on the block…at school…or in a group. But after a while, the new just sort of wears off and you’re either left with friends or acqaintances, a few anoyances or unlikely enemies, perhaps a little of both. If you’re lucky, you’ll find a good group of folks who really do like you; aside from just a few people who really don’t like anyone at all.
Either way, it’s all part of life. And life, as most of us have come to realize, is more-often a challenge than a down hill slide (a good one). So…this leads me to why I am writing this in the first place. Well….I guess, like other bloggers, I hope someone might read this and feel some sense of relief that they aren’t alone when it comes to feeling like a bit of an outcast at times, feeling like ‘high school’ never really ends, and like we’re never going to find that ‘one group of friends’ who truly like us for who we are and not what we have in the way of material things or social status.
It’s a given: people (followers I refer to as ‘sheeple’) are shallow, they are attracted to pretty…powerful…perfect…strong individuals, or the image of such. I’ve never been good at faking it; I’m a ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of gal. And…because of this realistic approach to people and life, I’ve often not had too many friends. Then again, I’ve often been told I’m a bit pouty and often look a bit pissed-off. In truth, like most people who are new to something, I’m just guarded and scared.
Honestly, when I ask myself, I get the same answer: I like most people more often than they deserve being liked. I give them the benefit of the doubt…so to speak. In the end, especially when I jump too soon, the truth comes crashing all around me when those so-called friends do me wrong or start flaking all over the place. They *gasp* discover I am a real person…with real problems, and I don’t have time to kiss their arse…nor do I want to.
Friends are friends, good…bad…or ugly. If you bond with someone, chances are, you’ll be friends for a very long time; real friends…no flakes or fakes. So, you may wonder why I’m writing this little ditty. Well, I guess I’m feeling a little left out in certain areas of my life. I feel the new has worn off in certain groups and I miss being new and popular. It’s great to be greeted with a smile…to be a mystery to folks…new and still interesting. I’m hoping this is all a phase and it’ll all go back to the way it was before the new wore off: Hubby and I being embraced by folks in our group. In fact, we like them all and we miss their smiles. And that’s the truth! : P