Balance
One of the beautiful things about identifying with water and the concept of flow is the ability to understand that there is a time to fight a current and a time to ride it where it will take you. The flaw there is an assumption that the flow goes in only one direction, which I've talked about a little bit before. Predictable, relatively uni-directional force allows one to anticipate what's coming next far more easily than chaotic, unpredictable force. It's easier to swim in a lazy river than it is to to swim through white rapids.
Philosophically that is an easy enough concept to grasp, and yet even with my brain engaged and clear I find that I have trouble automatically bringing it from "philosophy" into reality. Just when I think that I have found a place of equanimity, of peaceful balance, I find myself rudely shaken from it. I suppose it's a good thing that I'm a strong swimmer.
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It's odd. I used to be able to recall very easily what it was like to be with A, to feel his touch and his skin on mine. I don't know if it's because there has been no reinforcement of the memory with a second encounter or if it's because I was too successful in attempting to put the memory away so it would stop driving me to my knees at unexpected moments, or perhaps some of both. It was sometimes inconvenient to be so ruled by my emotions, but I miss it. I miss him. I miss the attention he used to give me. Even though I knew that I wouldn't receive so much of it indefinitely there's still a big part of me that longs for that. I work at putting that away too, and it makes me feel cold. Is it possible for me to find a place of balance?
Philosophically that is an easy enough concept to grasp, and yet even with my brain engaged and clear I find that I have trouble automatically bringing it from "philosophy" into reality. Just when I think that I have found a place of equanimity, of peaceful balance, I find myself rudely shaken from it. I suppose it's a good thing that I'm a strong swimmer.
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It's odd. I used to be able to recall very easily what it was like to be with A, to feel his touch and his skin on mine. I don't know if it's because there has been no reinforcement of the memory with a second encounter or if it's because I was too successful in attempting to put the memory away so it would stop driving me to my knees at unexpected moments, or perhaps some of both. It was sometimes inconvenient to be so ruled by my emotions, but I miss it. I miss him. I miss the attention he used to give me. Even though I knew that I wouldn't receive so much of it indefinitely there's still a big part of me that longs for that. I work at putting that away too, and it makes me feel cold. Is it possible for me to find a place of balance?