My outlook on life has been so backward lately. I feel the weight of the universe pushing me down. But why? Why does it need to be like that?<\/p>\n
Because it’s all about how you balance on this spinning rock.<\/p>\n
The accident happened, and I looked at it as darkness finally creeping into my bone.<\/p>\n
Only, instead of viewing the accident so harshly, I can see it for what it is, just another instant in all the instances, always happening, none more special than any other. So it’s okay, really, it’s okay, christa, to use whatever tools you have at your disposal, do what you need to save yourself.<\/p>\n
I am older now, older and wiser, truly. I feel it for the first time. Getting older is a rapturous experience. I don’t lie down anymore. Oh boy, no way. Now I get ready to dance. Because I’ve learned an uphill battle is the only one worth fighting. <\/p>\n
My age lets me open myself to that which brings me up, whatever I need, no guilt, no worries. Because now I see the pattern. And the good thing about recognizing a pattern is having the strength and understanding to not fight it, but live with it<\/b>.<\/p>\n
So, it starts here, and eventually I’m going to reach the crest. Then, in 10, 12 years, I’ll need another wake-up call. We’ll look up, sigh, dust ourselves off, and head to the next crest. On it goes. Because this is what I do, it’s who I am, it’s my pattern. And really, we’re nothing but patterns anyway.<\/p>\n
To sum up: my outlook needs to be celebrating the “madness that made me this way.” The awesome thing here is that a younger, weaker christa saw that, too, and fixed herself. Naturally, I can, too.<\/p>\n
Damn, it’s so much easier now, so much fucking easier. Don’t you think? Seriously, thank the makers of time. It makes me practically weep here, in ridiculous freaking joy, that I’m not young anymore. It’s going to be hard, but not difficult, not impossible, not hopeless.<\/p>\n
Now to cap off this evening of great revelations, I’ll leave you with this: you can’t change. You can only get through. That’s it. That’s what you can do. Anything else and you’re dead, in one way or another. <\/p>\n
I should have titled this damn post bittersweet symphony. how sad for me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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