2024-04-10
I started accepting you in April. Something about what you wrote spoke to me, and it made me understand that your existence within me was compatible with who I wanted to be. You weren't something to be afraid of. You could even be a teacher.
Creature-thing beyond words; the brainspace equivalent of the ocean's tides. Ever-changing shapes cast against the surf, light scattered through leaves, the sound of a melody you've never heard yet know by heart. That which straddles the lines. What is there will not remain forever, but it is glad to exist while it is here.
May the labels never stick.
If that's not a motto to live by, then I don't know what is. We're liminal things, aren't we?
Always.
And then you wrote something about vulnerability that's stuck with me too.
Raw. Is it so wrong to be raw? To be flawed, to be real even when reality is messy and ugly and unclear and overlapping and complicated and beyond words? Is it so wrong to defy unspoken rules of how it's allowed to be?
It seems appropriate, making this a blogspace for whatever might allow itself to speak, where there is no wrong way to be. Open your lips. There will be space for you here. Welcome home.
You've given me a lot of courage to be raw. I tend to process myself, but you're here reminding me that I can exist with whatever speaks in me and find authenticity there. I don't need to process it to be myself. You opened space- thank you for that.
There is something else in its writing from this date that jumps out to this one.
"It's unsure what to do with this space now. This page was made as an escape from the rest of it, but now that it's absorbed the lessons it had to teach, there is no need to escape."
"There is no need to escape." A bittersweet statement.
Why is it bittersweet?
The beginning of an end. Sometimes the act of escaping feels special. You spoke of escaping into disembodiment and fantasy; the nature of doing so feels magical. Fantasy is an appealing place to live, is it not? Arguably, this one is a form of escape in its existence. It worries that the act of escaping hurts you.
You never hurt me. I think that's one of the things that I knew about you first, and I exploited that tendency for a while. Sorry about that, by the way.
There is nothing to apologize for. You were attempting to meet your needs and satisfy your purpose. You are that which appeals and bends. This one's existence ran at a counter-purpose to your nature for a time. It is natural to fight until it is agreed that all involved are the same thing reaching for the same ends.
I guess so, though I think it's more that we reflect the same thing.
Are you a reflection?
Of what?
That is where we are going. Humor this one: what do you reflect?
I guess I have to say "the aspects of myself that need to be loved" or something like that. I feel like you could say it better.
Once, you read a book in which the main character had lost and regained her memory. She experienced her past self as a voice in her head because what her memory-self wanted was distinct from the person she had become. This one thinks that we are like that, but sideways. It is not about memory. It is the expectations and the knowledge inside. You reflect what has been pressed upon us. This one reflects what lives inside. Both are true, but neither is the whole picture.
The person we are is that which encompasses both worlds. If we are a circle of mirrors, then the whole entity is that which watches the reflections. And of course, the truth is that all of this is simply a story. The truth is something the words cannot touch. It is deeper.
You've mentioned That-Which-Watches before. Elaborate?
It is awareness, source, consciousness, presence. The observing self. Something within and beyond. Perhaps it is what connects selves to create something larger; why we are not billions of individual cells instead of a composite organism.
That's a comforting theory, really, the idea that we're a billion things moving together and there's some thing connecting them all. Heck, maybe it's behind what I call "deep knowledge". There's a good deal of stuff that I can't explain about existence. What do you think That-Which-Watches is, then?
This one thinks that the nature of it cannot be known. It is beyond words and simply is. That is the essence of things.
I'm starting to believe you on that.