The challenge with feeling what I really want
The trouble with really feeling what I want,… once I do, I really feel it.
Which means I also clearly feel, that I don’t necessarily get what I want. And sometimes that sucks.
I could tell myself, I’m sure it’ll happen eventually. Which is a lie.
I could tell myself, I should’ve lived my life differently, then I might have it. Which is useless.
I could tell myself, I did something in ‘my past life’, that explains this life. Which is the same as the above plus a belief system that seems to be built on revenge. Which I don’t have.
I could tell myself, I should hurry up. Which is stressful.
I could tell myself, I need to settle first. Which is claustrophobic.
I could tell myself, that apparently I don’t really want this, otherwise it would already be manifested in reality. Which fucks with me and ignores that there also are factors beyond my influence.
I could tell myself, to ignore others who have this. Which makes me lonely.
I could tell myself, to pretend it’s not so important. Which is painful.
I could tell myself, that I actually don’t really know what I want. Which is disempowering.
I could tell myself, to distract myself from this. Which is exhausting. And counters my wish to feel what I want in the first place.
I could tell myself, that I need to relax. Which is off the point.
I could tell myself, not to talk about it. Which is – why?
I could tell myself, life has a plan. Which I don’t know.
I could tell myself, to focus on nothing else. Which is boring.
I could tell myself, it’s just biology. Which is – what do you mean ‚just‘?
I could tell myself, not to show and share with others. Which would be fake.
I could tell myself, it’s just society. Which is victimizing.
I could tell myself, I’m being desparate. Which is mean.
I could tell myself, there are more important things to worry about in the world. Which is true and a lie at the same time.
I can notice that it’s there, this wish. With all the intensity it has. With all the fear, that it’ll never happen. With all the love that pops up, every time I see a little person or hear of another one of my friends expecting one of them (or two for that matter).
I can tell myself, it’ll happen when it happens. And it doesn’t, if it doesn’t.
I can practice to stay open and soft, true to my wish, also in light of frustration.
I can feel the love in the wish. The curiosity. The magic of life.
I can learn to notice how I compensate. And train to choose whether I want to compensate or dare to feel.
I can practice noticing when I need a break of the challenge, and just need a hug.
I can love my friends and their little ones.
I can learn to feel and contain intensity.
I can be lost. I can be honest.
I can reach out to a friend, to listen and be there with me, when I cry.
I can move. I can breathe. I can write.
I can be courageous. I can be vulnerable.
I can be curious. I can be honest.
I can be me.
I’ll go for that.
Sometimes it’s a challenge.
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