It’s early Monday morning in Vancouver and I am the first one here at the office. Nothing unusual in this. I’ve read all my emails. Have my tasks placed out before me. I’ve had my breakfast and am currently working on my coffee. A typical start to a typical day in this not so typical life of mine.
It was really foggy when I drove in this morning. Now a pale blue sky is above me and down on the water in the Georgia Strait is a thick fog billows a good hundred feet off the water and it looks so surreal. For a moment this morning I felt as if I was looking into the past, looking at an ancient world. There is something about the way fog hangs about the trees, those tendrils of mist gently hanging on and as the sun gains strength the mist loses its grip and slowly dissipates into nothing. The only remnant of its existence are the drops of dew that will soon evaporate as well.
And I am watching the mist on the water recede as well. What is it about fog that makes me feel a sense of solitude? I have been tackling the big issue of why being alone frightens me as much as it does. I really think this may be the last major issue that I need to work through. That if I can embrace solitude, feel comfortable and connected in it, perhaps that’s the final hurdle in this pursuit of happiness that I am on.
Happiness is a state of mind to me. Yes, there are things that can momentarily make me feel happy, but I am seeking that level of being where I don’t look to the outside world for compensation on this issue. I want to be in a state where I am just confident that where I am this day is precisely where I am supposed to be and accept it as such. I don’t know that I am making much in the way of sense, but I have times where I am on my own, where I suddenly feel extremely vulnerable, then I feel isolated and abandoned. It is at this point that begin to find it necessary to leave my home and just get out amongst the masses. This can make it even worse though, as I am now alone with no one to talk to. I can usually chat someone up if it gets really bad, but I am really trying to avoid this now. What I am focusing on are the emotions that are coming up, then trying to zero in on just what is going on and try to come to terms with all of it.
I have seen and experienced the darker side of life. I know that is where these emotional echoes are coming from. Perhaps I tried to stifle them at that time and now I just have to let them be heard. I am no longer a sixteen year old girl sleeping in a hotel room in a bed with sheets that are gritty and soiled, and that will never come clean no matter how much you wash them. As I laid on that bed wondering if I would ever feel clean again, if I would ever feel loved, if I would ever feel worth; and the sounds that slipped into my head through the paper-thin walls as the fear increased. I had no money, no job and an incomplete education. I had a rage in me that totally collided with the terror I felt. Yes, I was a bit of a mess. I remember feeling exhausted and not being able to really sleep and the heart would be racing.
In my head at that time a silent scream that was ever-present, but was never vocalized to the world around me. My world had shattered and at sixteen I did not have the skills on how to begin to put it back together. Somehow I have though.
And I’ve done a rather admirable job of it as well. So yes, perhaps I do have embrace all the echoes, hear them and help them to find peace in solitude. Then, and only then will this be comfortable for me.
The fog is disappearing quickly now. The sunlight is casting some really cool shadows and there is a vibrancy to the morning. I will move through this. In truth right now I am trying hard not to cry. All I am doing is owning this moment, allowing the pain I once felt to be absorbed so that I can move on and grow. I wish this got easier. In any case, thanks for listening.
Be well everyone.