Insomnia sets in nicely once more.
I couldn't sleep last night so I left my mother's house in Westchester around a quater to 4am, through the Bronx, into Harlem, and down the streets of West Manhattan till I find myself in this quaint little shop with kids screeching in the background, constantly reminding me of what joy is. There's much to tell of my journey. Who I met, who I had to pull my knife on, the various conversations with strangers...but all in all this was good for me. Most certainly not good for my health (my mom is fucking furious) but good for my mental health. I was able to sort out a few things for myself. I got a little of me back that I'd lost. It was nice to see the sun peek over the horizon created by the brownstones of Harlem. It was absolutely breathtaking. In that moment I knew again why life was so beautiful as I was humbled by mother nature and began to cry. Not so much because I'm as corny as Kincade painting, but because I was experiencing this euphoric rejuvenation of my soul. All at once I wanted to paint the sky and the walls around me, play my cello and run stark raving mad down lexington in the nude, sing show tunes with Caz in the rain (
the_baroness thanks so much for all your support the past few days, love. I appreciate it with all my heart and I just wanted to make that declaration public), and dance until I could no longer feel my feet.
I still hurt, but I'm beginning to heal. There's so much on my mind right now that I force out of my head. Consider this chapter 1 in a series of introspective entries entitled: The shit I learned walking around NY, lol. That's not eloquent at all I know, so how about "Finding Beauty Where There's None to Be Found: Harlem Teaches a Lesson. I like that.
Thoughts...
Why is it that life makes it so that people have the power to ruin who we are and not have to be burdened with that fact. And why is it that these same people can come back and claim ownership over the person we've become. Why do they feel that they can own pieces of us when they can't even see the significance in things they've done past what their pride assumes we should thank them for. How is people can ask that you just "get over it". How can people trivialize something so important that it changed you. Why is it that even when people hurt you their only willing to do what is convenient for them. Why is it we're made to feel guilty for not making things easier for them. Why must I apologize for my emotions. Why is it when something is bothering you we can spend ours on what I have done wrong, but when something is bothering me, I just haven't learned how to "move on". Why is it you must always defend yourself to me. If you were really sorry, that's all you would say.
Apologies require humility.
When I was younger I had a major problem apologizing to my mother. I couldn't do it. I rarely did it and if I did, it was often begrudgingly and followed by excuses and *my side of the story*. My mom used to tell me that I needed to learn to humble myself before her and before others. See I had this major chip on my shoulder, and I just knew that I was the shit and I knew everything there was to know. My mother couldn't possibly understand my intelligence -- right? But with time I began to actually listen and meditate on what my mother was telling me, and what I discovered was that she was in fact correct. You could imagine my astonishment! I had discovered that apologies in their purest form required one to die unto themselves. If I was still trying to prove my point or defend myself, I hadn't done that, and therefore was not sincere in my apology. An apology means that you're truly sorry and no matter how right I am, or how wrong you may be, I put that aside because I am fundamentally sorry. It's all about swallowing your pride. Because at the point of an apology, who is right or wrong should no longer matter.
In my opinion the phrase "I am sorry" is just as over used as the most important phrase we have, which is "I love you". People don't take the time to consider the ramifications of making those statements. Consequently people throw those words around at their fancy and according to their whims, usually while intending to make things easier and better for themselves. Never for others. But love and apologies require humility, and for someone to be humble reflects a state insignificance. Insignificance in that, "it's not about me, it's about you". Completely about the other person, and what I may want ceases to matter. It's not hard to understand why in this individualistic society that's all about getting what we want, how we want it, as fast as we can, and as easy as possible, that humility is a dying concept -- if not dead already.
If you aren't a humble person, that's fine. I find it deplorable, but that's fine. Just please do me a common courtesy and never say that you "love me" or that "you're sorry". All you'll succeed in doing is making a mockery of 2 beautiful concepts that were cheapened by time. Another thing cheapened by time has been the art of sacrifice. Sacrifice is an art because it is something to be observed, studied, or acquired by experience.
There are no self made martyrs. Not even Jesus was a self made martyr. Before he died on the cross for the sins of the world, he spent 40 days and 40 nights learning what it was to sacrifice. If the greatest man in history, if the most selfless man in history (this is true whether you are a Christian, Atheist, or somewhere in-between) needed a teacher, who are we to suppose greatness all by ourselves.
We need each other and the individualistic nature of society is precisely why humanity is dying. As the saying goes "the children are the future", and when you look at who is teaching them, you have to wonder what kind of future we're engendering for ourselves.
Happy (belated) Veterans Day to my brother and the 102, 000 military officials, the 28,000 men and women of the Reserves, and the countless others that have served in years past. He nor the others may not be Jessica Lynch, but they sure as fuck deserve their own parades as well. ( I think I will devote a whole entry to how I feel about Jessica Lynch, the war, and Bush not attending a single funeral of a deceased soldier)
Don't defend yourself to me or to yourself after reading this if in fact I struck a chord with you, because that's precisely what the meat of this entry was about.
I'm so very tired and now that I've finished this, I think I'll go home and just crash. But first I need to finish my chalk drawings outside...stay tuned for Chapter 2.
Peace, Love, and Revolution/Evolution in between; by the way that's a daily process because I think we all evolve daily within ourselves.
<3,
Candice