Relentless Sun
April 10, 2007 | permalink
I think a lot about myself. I don't mean in a totally ego-centric 'enough about me, darling- what do you think of my dress?' kind of way; I mean that I spend a lot of time examining my thoughts and feelings, and actions and motivations, trying to figure out what makes me tick. Trying to understand what I want and what I am, and what I'm doing and why.
You would think at this stage in my life (being nearly thirty-five) that this would be clear to me. Maybe it should be, and I am hopelessly behind my peers in terms of self-awareness and understanding. Which is a notion that kind of depresses me, to be quite honest. But since I have no way of knowing, I suppose it is equally possible that no one ever really understands themselves as well as they would like. When I am feeling reasonable (and reasonably together), I think that both things are probably true; I should have more understanding of myself by now, but no matter how much I understand, there will always be something else. Perhaps complete understanding of oneself is unattainable, or nearly so; the quest what the Buddhists would call Nirvana, or the Shaolin concept of Enlightenment, for example, were both lifelong quests.
But on reflection, after trying to continue with this post, I think that perhaps I do understand myself more than the above passages would imply. I just don't like what I see.
I suppose that the basic problem I have, if I boil it down to its simplest components, is that what I think is my innate nature (which I obviously cannot change) is in direct conflict with the things that I was taught about the world when I was young (and we all know, I think, how hard those childhood lessons are to shake). And I don't know how to reconcile the two, and resolve the conflict.
If I had to describe my basic nature (the parts of it relevant to this discussion, at least), I would say that in my heart of hearts I was basically an honest and trusting person, who greatly desired to be close to people, and open with them, and all the things that entails- trust in others and faith in the future among them. Not a bad set of traits, I think. Except...
Except that anyone who knows me can tell you that I fall pretty short of this, in reality. Especially in the trust and faith and openness parts. These are things that, even though I have always yearned for, I didn't really know existed outside of fiction. If I had to sum up the lessons of my childhood, they would go something like this: Everyone is out to get you, if they can, so the less you give away the better; keep everything possible to yourself. And you can't count on anything that you have today being here tomorrow, so don't get attached to anyone or anything.
Pretty bleak, eh? Those ideas seem inescapable to me, and color everything I do. And I hate them. I wish I could say that nothing has ever happened in my later life that reinforced them, and that I have managed to escape them, but I can't. The first friend I had set me on fire. My favorite uncle molested me. My father is (as I have mentioned before) paranoid and pretty much crazy, and consistency and stability are things I never knew until I left the house to go to college. (I lived in something like 15 or 16 different places before I graduated high school- on one occasion, we came home from school on a Friday to find out we were packing to move on Saturday.) My mentor killed himself. And I won't even talk about my ex-wife.†
Sometimes it feels like a lot to bear, and my worst fear is that I will never overcome the circumstances of my upbringing. That I will be stuck in conflict, always yearning for things I will not allow myself to have. I don't want you to think I am sitting here feeling sorry for myself; I'm not. I have survived all these things, and I'm not a total basket case. I feel certain that I can get through anything that life throws at me, one way or another. I am a success in my chosen field, and even if I am suspicious of people in general and tend to hold myself back and be a tad anti-social, I do have people that I love and trust.
I guess I just wish it were easier. I would like to be able to let go of all the crap and be able to be open and expressive to the people I care about. I would love to be able to not think of the worst things that could happen, all the time. (Not feeling like a complete cynic would be quite nice, I think).
I suppose the only thing to do is to persevere. I haven't gotten this far by giving up, and I don't guess I will start now. But like I said: I wish it were easier.
† I don't want to give the impression that I am being all 'woe is me, I am a poor sad helpless victim' here... I'm not a saint, and I have certainly done some things I am not proud of. And there are of course people who I have trusted who were indeed worthy of it. I am only trying to illustrate my point with my own experiences. I hope that makes sense...
Posted in Family Matters & Growing Up & Musings & Social Life & The Pasthaiku 141 was the last entry.
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