Oil and Vinegar
I've heard it said that the "Earth Goddess Type" sometime need a good dose of spiritual vinegar to cut through the fat/cushy life living.
I fear that my comfortable furnishing have created someone out of touch with the wicked edge that was the rocketfuel that propelled me forward. I long for darkness, for some sort of gothic romance that has elluded me since my arrival here. "Comfortable" isn't sexy, dangerous, or even pretty.
Everything is vanilla in the heartland. It's all goodytwoshoes "Golly gee wiz" thinking...the sheeple are all decked out in their finest xmas garb, credit cards maxed out, children sautering down the church aisle, exchanging cookies in attempt to suck in all that holiday cheer...it's all in the name of "good." These types will, eventually, sweat it off at the gym next month, undertake another failed diet, and drone back to their day jobs next week, their master controls on autopilot in order to feed the offspring that they were instructed to produce.
Dont get me wrong, I'm a big fan of good. I'm a big fan of doing good because it's the right thing to do. It feels good and I would like to think that paying it forward is a way of thinking that will pay off in the end. Will it?
I feel like I have been caught in the lie of "Give! Give! Give till it hurts" and the painful place of not seeing any payoff. I can make the decision to do well, but lack the experience to see the bigger picture of "why." Why? Why? Why????
I long for the wrong. I want to swim in the inky, sticky goodness of a three day bender, complete with beautiful companions and funny pictures to gaze it, especially on those days forthcoming that will be held with headaches, toothaches, butthurt over spilled milk, and wrestling with the beaurocratic monster that is DHS.
We are on the edge of something big and my solar plexus is screaming out.
"Find a deep cave to hide in..."
The Husband tells me that its always the last 5% that I get very anxious and simply cannot finish. I push from the beginning and somewhere in the madness, I give it all and forget to refill the oil lamp. I dont know any other way that to give my whole heart, but lately....the goal seems too fleeting that I am stuck...in my spirit, in my heart, and my head is a mess of swirlling ideas.
The rocket has taken off and instead of a forward thrust, something in the master control decides "not yet" and they whole thing explodes into a fit of tears and heartache.
I am sick of waiting. This entire mess is out of control. There are forces acting in my life that I do not own the controller to, or the translation ring to claim the prize inside. Instead, I'm all dressed up, standing outside the courtyard gates, watching others dance and swirl in their happiness, and my only companion are those also stuck outside the gate, telling me how terrible it is inside. It's all a mirage and I'm a fool for believing otherwise. My heart says differently, but wasn't it my heart that got us into this in the first place?
I find that in this time, I have no more grace, no more patience. I am quite simply: very very sick of doing "good."