I’ve been having trouble recently. Trouble getting myself to write. My mind kept doubting, kept searching for appropriate words but struggled finding them. When I told this to a friend of mine, she simply said “just write where you’re at right now” and for some reason, this opened up a little doorway which let some air into my suffocated mind and muted my self-made anxiety. That night, I went home and wrote whatever oozed through my fingertips. The result of which is below:
The first move is always the hardest. Crossing that line between where you already stand and where you are intrigued to go. To explore. I suppose in some ways, life is all about lines. Crossing lines, drawing lines, pulling lines, using lines, constricting lines, thinking about lines, avoiding lines and imagining lines. I bet if we were to physically visualize all these lines we create everyday, our world would look like a math book grid..which to me, doesn’t sound all that appealing. But then anything with the word ‘math’ in it makes my brain turn into an out of service tv channel. I wonder if we actually saw these lines, would we cross them more often? Rebel against them more? Would we become more daring? Dare less? Is not seeing them aiding us or endangering us?
I guess we seek out lines to lead us towards some unspoken path and secretly, even if some of us don’t want to admit it, (and others are extremely vocal about it,) we want what awaits us to be spectacular. As a matter of fact, we expect it to be. I mean, why else are we graced with life right? We just try to convince ourselves to believe that it won’t be because maybe in some way we try to avoid disappointment. Because we fear it. And so often it’s that fear of disappointment that keeps us from crossing lines, from reaching farther than comfort and giving in to our potential. Fear is a real bitch and sadly we all carry that bitch inside of us. Just some of us are better at dealing with her than others… some of us have the ingredients to tame her PMS.
Some lines work though. As a matter of fact, some lines we can be proud of ourselves for drawing. Like when we finally say no to an abuse we inflict on ourselves, be it material or in the shape of a person, or we decide we won’t be the victim anymore, or maybe we decide to become a little less selfish..or a little more selfish. Just saying no, creating those lines, can be so liberating and empowering that you wouldn’t think that those same lines can turn into self made bars with which you entrap and delude yourself with.
We always ask…is this ok? Should I do this? What will happen if…? But what if….? And I can’t help but wonder where these doubts come from. When did we create these rules of right and wrong and the fine line that separates the two. Sometimes we dance right on that line like a drunk driver who’s been asked to step out of his vehicle to walk straight.. Maybe that’s exactly what most of us are… tipsy drivers swaying between the greater right and wrong. But then that’s all relative. It’s dependent on whose eyes we see through, dependent on which perspective we choose. Isn’t it?
When lines are crossed, miscommunication can happen. When lines are crossed, the unexpected can happen. When lines are crossed, other lines are formed. When lines are formed, we stump possibility. When lines are broken, we can be free. When lines are torn apart, we can loose who we are. We live. We learn. We love in lines. Lots and lots of lines.