{way too early to be up}

Sleep is eluding me tonight. I went to bed and fell asleep just fine, but awoke around 3am and can’t seem to get back to sleep. Perhaps the cat awoke me (she meows at the bedroom door sometimes), and once awakened I’ve been unable to fall back to sleep.

The only emotion that has been prevalent these days is sorrow. It’s weird to still feel like a teenager at almost fifty, still crying into the night. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep during my marriage, lost and feeling misunderstood and unseen, and then, when I knew it was ending, cried some more in an attempt to purge the sense of failure and to mourn the love that was no longer in my life. With my mother’s passing, my only real deep sense of belonging and being loved left. I was cut adrift. And to understand how fucked up a dynamic the relationship between my mother and I was, it would take some time and a lot more writing.

I know some rationalize (or perhaps romanticize) the notion that love doesn’t die (I wonder where hatred drifts off to?), that the universe is filled with love, and that we just need to reach in with our big ladle and get ourselves a cupful of the good stuff and it’ll be there, but I can’t feel it.

All I feel is energy unmanifest, without emotion or intention, good or otherwise. This sense of it being good and beneficent, I think that’s a human construct, something we put in place in order to make life bearable when the going gets tough. Something to believe in when we have nothing left inside of us to get us to the other side.

Now I’m not saying that there isn’t beneficence in the world. I see and find it in people. This dialog (ingenious writers!) between to characters from one of the final episodes of Buffy illustrates the viewpoint:

Anya: There was this other apocalypse this one time. And, well, I took off. But this time, I don’t… I don’t know.
Andrew: Well, what’s different?
Anya: Well, I guess I was kinda new to being around humans before. And now I’ve seen a lot more, gotten to know people, seen what they’re capable of and I guess I just realize how amazingly… screwed up they all are. I mean, really, really screwed up in a monumental fashion.
Andrew: Oh.
Anya: And they have no purpose that unites them, so they just drift around, blundering through life until they die. Which they-they know is coming, yet every single one of them is surprised when it happens to them. They’re incapable of thinking about what they want beyond the moment. They kill each other, which is clearly insane, and yet, here’s the thing. When it’s something that really matters, they fight. I mean, they’re lame morons for fighting. But they do. They never… They never quit. And so I guess I will keep fighting, too.

Most people will rise to the occasion… there are moments in our lives when we all rise to that place. And also moments when we sink, and do despicable things. Our nature is dual, and yet we are capable of such greatness and beauty.

In a weird way I’ve isolated myself from most everything. At first I thought it was because I needed healing, time to rediscover myself and figure out my next direction in life, but the more I stay in this place, the more I wonder if I’ll ever get out of here, if anyone will ever be able to reach me, or if anyone will care to venture in. I’ve lost patience for most things. The drama bores me. It is unnecessary and tiresome, a waste of time and energy. I know the point of being here is the interaction, but I don’t want to interact on those levels. And I think it scares people, because I have a way of stripping things down to the essentials. You know, we really are all fucked up, and to not see it for what it is truly is a disservice to ourselves and others.

The only thing I do these days in the way of interaction is random acts of kindness. It is the only thing that brings people to their surface, and perhaps me as well.


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