Updated: Sep 21, 2021
"The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war." - Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit
Where do we draw the line? What are the rules? Who gets to make them? Who do they change for? And is there some kind of explanation on why they are the way they are?
Too exhausting if you ask me, and feels more like a game. For those who treat life as a game, I wish you well, but I'm going to be off in the clouds pondering why humans are so afraid of experiencing life without rules written by someone else.
I love to read, and my God do I love philosophy and poetry, but I have yet to figure out what goes through people's minds when they say, "I'm an empath, stoic, taoist, hedonist, logical positivist, etc. etc."
I think identification of qualities can be a helpful tool in making our way through life, but when fear of breaking through our identities keeps us from seeking more adventure in life, and stuck playing our hand we have been dealt I get curious. Who created these rules anyway? And why can I not just drop the cards and dance on the table?
Let me help make some sense of this gibberish for a moment.
I love to find beautiful ideas to add to my pouch full of tools used to cultivate an alternative to a suffering world, but if I hide behind the words of another man's book, this isn't my journey.
Easily said, and possibly the hardest thing in this entire world to do, get out of your own way.
We all love to admire the true free spirited hippie, the dirt bag with more ambition to climb a mountain than climb the ladder of societal acceptance and conforming to social normalities. I have been called many things, tree hugger, hippie, flower child, sensitive, stoic, deep thinker, too deep, cloud walker, victim, survivor, free spirit, broken spirit, and you know what. I am. You know what I had to sacrifice to not hide behind it? Everything. I have watched each of those pieces of me in each story of experience take their last breath. They had to die for me to grow into what ever the hell it is that I am now. It's painful as much as it is beautiful, and I will never stop seeking to break my own boundaries, killing my own ego as much as possible each day, and feeling the sun hit directly into the cracks left in my soul that I created by doing that. I will make my heart and soul grow so much the pain gets lost one day, but I understand why you fear your own journey. Why it's easier to follow in someone else's shoes. After waking up in the hospital alone, feeling like death was the only other thing in the room I laughed. Seriously. I laughed at myself so hard I couldn't stop. Out of everything in life I had feared I knew it would always end this way. So what was I really afraid of? Failure? What did my failures matter now that I don't have another chance to. Regret is such a strong emotion, and all I could think of is how much I regretted not loving more, and that included myself. Not just the best parts of myself, but all of myself.
Show me a man who buys nice clothes because he works long hard hours versus the man who made his own clothes, and I will always tell you that the second man is richer. He values the most precious and expensive thing in life, Time. He is comfortable enough with who he is to spend his own time, with his own self, making something that may not be perfect, but is so much more valuable.
You can't earn more time, so stop giving it away to stories that have already been written, and start believing in your own.
God has all of the pain and failure been worth it since I got a second chance. I almost crave it because it reminds me I'm alive, and when I finally succeed at growth, and being a better human being it feels like the universe itself is allowing me access to feelings only for those who would truly cherish them, and radiate them.
Nefelibata. Oh how I love this word. It feels like home.
I was told I would never work again because I'm too fragile after some severe diagnosis', and I said, "Don't you see? Fragile doesn't mean I can't live, and to be honest, being fragile makes the dirt feel that much cooler under my toes, and the sand so warm and comforting running through my fingers."
I was told no, but I happily (and appreciatively) declined to follow this logic. If all is fair in love and war, and I can't fight to fall in love with my life, what am I living for? I will die in the mountains a happy woman before I lay down in another hospital bed too scared to try.
I beg of all people, start questioning everything, and if it doesn't come from a place of love that you would fight for, drop the cards, and find a new game to play at least, and if you want more? Lose the game and find yourself in the clouds of humility, value, and genuine appreciation of everything you can take in until your seams bursts, and then take in more.
I have many tools from many places, but I am what I am, and that's imperfectly more than alright with me.
Remember the world desires to play a game with you, and win or lose it will never value the time you put in, so don't ever be scared to break the mold of society, be kind to be kind, recklessly without a rhyme, and genuine without a reason.
Maktub my loves,