a sunset of tropical proportions; coral clouds and azure sky. "I have had this"
im afraid. of falling into obscurity. of being obscure. boring.
so i wrote last night, after I posted.
the eternal question, is 'why'. why are we doing this, going around and around, when we are all going to die anyway. i read every day, an affirmation from a prayer book, a different reason for recovery, for living, for life. but it just doesnt seem to hit home. i explained to a friend tonight that being 'in the food' was like being shrouded in a cloud. and once that cloud lifts, say after a few days of abstinence, i find myself not in clear or light, but in darkness. not an evil or a 'bad' place, but a darkness that is what darkness symbolizes. fear and uncertainty. fear of the future. uncertainty about everything. who i am, what my place is, the world, the universe. i am adrift, not misdirected, but having no direction, grasping at something i cant name, cant describe. so i go back to the food, because it gives me a purpose. as bad as it is, as frustrating as it is, it is a challenge and that challenge gives my life meaning. it, binging and restricting/obsession with food, is a self-destroying force, but at the same time it keeps me engaged. a ferocious engagement, of chaos. but it has held me down for so long, i don't like the floating sensation of freedom when im released from it. i feel lost in the disease. i feel...nothing without it. distraught, aimless, almost another kind of hopeless.
why do I go through the motions of daily life? i think on one hand its a comfort, especially to my compulsive behavior. i think its a hope, for the part of me that has faith that i will come to a place of serenity, eventually, in that misty future. and also, to be honest, a part of the motions is simple vanity, because as much as the scales of my previous values and assumptions are starting to shed, i am still very much ingrained in a culture and society that values white teeth and silky hair and skinny muscles. so i brush my teeth and wash my hair and exercise. however, the reasons behind these are all changing. i brush my teeth because i like the fresh taste of mint. i wash my hair because a clean scalp helps me think sharper (as weird as that sounds, my head is very sensitive), and i exercise because i feel a connection to myself, a joy in motion, a reveling in the miracle of the human body.
but still, its not deep enough. i dont care. because i dont have to. my basic needs are taken care of. i am loved. i am provided for. so i dont have to provide for myself.
in our staff meeting today, our CEO gave a great anecdote about the success rate of climbers on Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania (or Kenya? excuse my geography skills). That those who climbed on days with cloud cover had a much less chance of actually reaching the summit, while those who climbed on days without fog almost always reached the top. those who could see their goal, their direction, their path, who knew where they were going and what they were trying to attain, those people succeeded. those whose vision was blocked did less so.
the program works on faith. blind faith. act as if, they say, act as if. but i am a person who needs direction, i need a goal. i have struggled with this my entire life. its very difficult for me to find the motivation unless i understand why im doing it. or, generally in the past, i was pleasing someone by doing it. now, i care a lot less about what most people think. im still influenced, because ive been cultivated for the past 23 years to compare myself against fellow students, co-workers, neighbors. but now i need more. i need deeper. i survive. i need a reason to thrive. otherwise i think the first action will be in jeopardy.
3 years ago a needle injected ink into my thigh, a walking tiger, staring directly out from my body, with steady eyes. she is my strength and my courage, and i told myself that because i had her with me, i would never take my own life. because i could always dedicate it to another. but if that dedication, that service is empty, without heart...does it make it worthwhile?
i am not suicidal, just very thoughtful. right now, its hard for me to imagine myself eating breakfast tomorrow morning, working in the office in the afternoon, having dinner with my family for my mum's 50th birthday. but it will all happen, i will go through the motions.
hope. i am blessed with hope. so maybe i can hold onto that as a marker of faith. as a marker that something out there is telling me to keep searching.
watched a documentary tonight called "The Beautiful Truth", told in a story book/biographical fashion about a young boy from Alaska who investigates the relationship between diet and disease. a very interesting, powerful film, sometimes a bit heavy on the conspiracy theories, but recommended none the less. the ending is beautiful and reaching. i played the last few minutes a couple times to get it written down:
for each of us eventually whether we are ready or not someday it will come to an end
there will be no more sunrises no minutes hours or days
all the things you collected weather treasured or forgotten will pass to someone else
your wealth fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance
it will not matter what you owned or owed
your grudges resentments frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear
so too your hopes, ambitions, plans and to do lists will expire
the wins and loses that once seemed so important will fade away
it wont matter where you came from or on what side of the tracks you lived at the end
it wont matter if your beautiful or brilliant
even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant
so what will matter how will the value of your days be measured
what will matter is not what you bought but what you built
not what you got but what you gave
what will matter is not your success but your significance
what will matter is not what you learned but what you taught
what will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice
that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example
what will matter is not your competence but your character
what will matter is not how many people you knew but how many will feel a lasting loss when your gone
what will matter is not your memories but the memories that live in those who loved you
a life lived that matters is not of circumstance but of choice"
A life lived...
I will keep reaching...
I will keep searching.