I feel a bit like a teenager growing up and making discoveries that every adult knows. I don’t know what to call it, but I feel I’m on a path towards a way of living that’s different than what I’ve been doing before. It involves mindfulness, meditation, forgiveness, acceptance, discipline, and faith. It sounds a lot like religion but maybe it’s just growing up.
I’ve started to develop some skills in these areas. To use a snowboarding analogy for my level of mastery, I’m pretty comfortable on the green runs and the blue ones are fun but still really challenging. Black diamonds? Maaaaaaybe on a 3-feet-of-powder day, and then only if there’s a cute boy to impress.
One of these skills is recognizing inner thoughts as side effects of larger situations, instead of as the absolute truth. When I have thoughts of, “No one likes me and I have no friends and I’m destined to die alone and miserable like my aunt,” I kind of realize it’s not true and probably due to hormones or anxiety about something else. I’ve gotten pretty good at
letting those thoughts go crap as I typed that I realize I don’t let them go at all. I dissect them to find the reason behind it – am I hormonal? What am I anxious about? Should I meditate about this? Do I need exercise? Am I hungry?
This post was originally going to be about how I always expect there to be an end to my sadness, my anxiety, my meanness … my life, basically. It was going to be about how all those things will always be there and I need to learn to accept those things too. Now I realize that all that’s true, yes, but something that will also always be there is my instinct to analyze. Yeah, I could work really really hard on letting that go but I could also work really really hard on dying my Asian hair blonde. What’s the point? It’s kind of denying who I am, isn’t it? As long as I recognize that the analytical skill is just a skill and not a fact – not a determiner of my happiness – all is well, right?