Reality Slips

    With a weight in my soul I felt the pull, no, the soft hand squeeze of a child showing you something new to them. Waves of energy rippled, as it seemed a soft amber glow warmed me entirely. There was a strange air of clarity as I sat and felt wave after wave of this energy crash into me. At some point the voices I once only heard after tedious meditation and such were in perfect sync with each other,  a strange harmony of my inner dialogue. 

    Its insanity, it must be. This was the dose that fried me. How was I so careless? No this isn’t insanity, I wouldn’t be coming to the conclusions that I-We are. We are the embodiment of balance. We feel like Sigmund had an idea with his three compartments1, but as we perceive on a spectrum it is more the system is more akin to Jung’s Shadow Work ideas. Each issue we have to overcome isn’t just as binary as Ego/Super-ego, more a manifestation of both values. We come to terms in our own ways with battling each of these “demons'', but fail to realize we are fighting against our own subconscious mind. 

Now this is where it gets a bit fuddy. I need to explain when I say “We” and “Our” in the context of the harmonious inner dialogue, and the times I make anything in quotations it's a voice that speaks without the others. The best way to describe it would be while scanning the radio and you get the clearest version of a station. Everything written beyond this point is an inner narrative. If it doesn’t make sense that’s fine read it as the metaphorical Angel and Demon on your shoulders.

“Why must we perceive this dimension? It is quite lowly.” 

A passive voice floated through our mind. This voice, it was most likely a female. A twinge of pain, mixed in the subtle cadence. A physical form goes with this voice, she is who Hellenistic people would have called Persephone. 

“We don’t get a choice in the matter, you're well aware of this, we are slowly relearning how to exist again.”

A second more assertive yet calm voice floated through the static, it was the voice that makes up the harmony of inner dialogue. Though it’s somewhat soft it is a male. Introspection and sensuality resounding in a refined tone. This voice also manifests in a physical form, as with the Persephone. He is who Hellenistic would have called Dionysus .

Both voices have a physical form that resonates in my mind, full 1080p clarity. As autonomous as they are, they also are extensions of me as well. They are the ones that help make decisions and help form thoughts, ideas, and opinions. They are the voices of reason and my greatest insanity. 

“This train of thought is borderline paranoia”

He interjects whenever I begin to fall too far into thought patterns that make me feel insane. Though with the same rationality that lets me see that it might be insanity, I am damned with the knowledge that it just the same is considered insanity by anyone looking at it from the outside. The level of self-awareness is tragic, it makes for the worst possible mental landscape at times. An ever constant analysis of every action, breaking down what happens and trying to find the motive or cause, and then because of modern needs to make sure everyone is not offended that my reaction isn’t detrimental to them. 

“You can’t bother yourself with such things though, it’s not your place.” her tone caring, “You don’t impose the defensive nature taken to things you say. At times yes you speak out of emotions but the second you begin to doubt yourself you lose the passion behind the sentiment.”

“She doesn’t mean just say whatever you please,” said with a sigh, “though it would be much easier, it’s not the most appropriate way to handle a situation.” His body shifting, “You are responsible for your actions and yours alone,” raising a hand as he paused, “but you also have to take into account the legacy that you leave.” 

That’s the first time he’s pointed that out, and it’s not a sentiment I’ve felt. It’s something said with a power that resonates. I always understood the concept, I suppose, just under a different name. It’s sentiment was that of being taught that I have to always put 100% of myself into things. Standing for myself and my actions. I’ve heard it said life is what we make it. It can be heaven or hell depending on how we see it to be. Somewhere along the way I’ve been taught that all this life is a cycle. It’s seen in everything, we have to acknowledge it before we can change anything. We are allowed the ability to ‘go against the grain’ but we must understand the cost. 

“Hold on,” he interjects into my thoughts, “That doesn’t mean take the path of least resistance. You must discover the path that is the least damning path to your autonomy.” Setting his hand on my shoulder, “You are doing pretty well but your over indulgence is a big issue, you know it’s soon either going to consume you or destroy you.”

He’s not wrong, it’s the truth of the matter. I have found my indulgences are at the point that I have a few choices left. Either I become better than I am or I let the need to experience the indulgence ruin existence. There is however a third option that exists, and infinitely more that I haven't acknowledged or don’t accept, albit the only third option is yet again running. Running so I don’t have to face the monster I don’t wish to become. The most damning thing about attempting to make a change in existence is that I become the monster I have been stalking this whole time. 

“My dear you have always been this monster, you exist as this and will always feel the want and need to release and float but you're running in the wrong direction.” leaning against what looks like a pillar of immersible height.  “You have to find a way to exist in environments that you don’t wish to.” 

Again I fall into the oxymoron of not following my own advice, or more aptly put I don’t fully commit to my advice and have more often than not let myself down. A cycle of not wishing to face the consequences of actions. Acknowledgement is the first part of changing something. I see this now, now I understand it. Rationalizing is just the same as making poor excuses. The difference is that in rational you have to look at yourself giving credit to causes but ultimately acknowledge your faults and with excuses you give the blame to something other than yourself.  Excuses make up the amount of effort you don’t put into something, because you don’t put any energy into fixing things. 

“Complacency is a cheap excuse for existence,” 

Like those cheesy flashback scenes, vivid memories of Dr. Cole lecturing to us on how just skimming the surface was neither acceptable or have much long term pay off. The memory sparking something within, an ember from a fire I thought long snuffed out. There being no mistake, I exist and what I feel is revitalization. Now my choices are merely constantly stroke this, not feeding too much and burning all out at once and not starving it letting the flame within me fade. 

“You know the spark is always there, you just have been so afraid of burning out or going up in an inferno that you have forgotten what it feels like to be warmed.” Reaching out to caress my cheek, she seemed to look past my eyes. “Don’t fear the warmth when you’ve spent so much time in the cold,” softly she plants her lips on my forehead, “It hurts more to feel than it does to be numb”

I know that she is right. I-

she interjects “Have you forgotten that even if the moon isn’t full it’s still the same heavenly body as before?” Spreading her hands the moon appears starting it’s cycle. “She is a constant, regardless of her intensity. Whereas The Sun is constantly intense, even when blocked out you always know it's there.”

    In that instant it started to drizzle, the sound of thunder echoed from the distance. I don’t feel scared, I don’t want to seek shelter now. I know I will need it soon, but for now my hood is enough. The soft downpour is somewhat calming, almost like washing my hand clean of the sins I have carried for years. The flood of emotions is coming thou-

“Much like it always does,” with a hand he motions to the fire, “However this is the first time you’ve acknowledged this and you have the chance to truly exist within it. Will you run and lose your warmth, or will you make the effort to stand your ground and withstand the torrential downpour coming your way?” he sat beside the fire water droplets falling down his leather jacket, “You managed last month, but that was material. This will however be hard especially given what you seek to become.”

    And I see it now, I merely understood it before. The two are not synonymous as I previously thought. The more apparent it becomes the more the voices begin to speak clearly. The clarity of what octave in which they exist is now more than just a harmony. Finding instead the common notes, the symphony we create is more beautiful than just one constant harmony, but only in that distinction do I become myself, not in an attempt to become something that is harmonious to what I feel in the heat of the moment, which I’ve been doing for the longest. This epoch however is over, and as I come to a close I must not move from what, no who I am, but instead make sure I don’t let the lust to experience life drive me to a decision that strips me of my own opinion in the matter. 

“Just because you will not be falling in line with everyone around you, doesn't mean you aren’t feeling it. You are just in a different phase, much like the moon you must be able to stay whole even when it doesn’t seem it.” she sits beside him grabbing his hand, “We exist as a way to understand but we are your way to do it…”

Locking his fingers between hers, “Don’t think however you must do things exactly as you rationally see them to be done,” Reaching out for my hand, “Don’t just think anyways.”

With a soft nod she reaches out for my other hand, “You must also feel, which I know you understand.” Squeezing my hand softly, “You have no choice but to exist, for that is what life is.” 

The drizzle was soothing and brought new found clarity. I know what it is that I must do, and with a soft sigh I smiled fighting the the knot in my throat.

‘It’s okay, stop closing that up.’ she pulled me in close for an embrace, letting me know i was okay.

‘You are strong enough to do this, just don't find yourself hunting down the things that make you strong and undoubtedly becoming what you aren’t and will never be.’ 

In the same instant that we existed as three separate energies we are one again, and I left in the void sitting against a pillar. I get up, and begin working on making shelter to sit out this storm. My face wet, and eyes were starting to hurt from holding back tears. Those tears are what I needed to push me to complete what I’ve failed so many times before.