Tempestuous Days

Today is one of those days when nothing seems to go right. It started the moment I woke up this morning and, perhaps more of my own volition than anything else, has continued stubbornly most of the day. I am one of those people who frets and worries, who can feel the tension winding up within her like a top, one of those people who can't seem to let go easily, who let it build and build and... WHOOOSH! Until finally, it breaks, sometimes in a rush of wind, in a fit of laughter, or sometimes in the more sinister outburst of frustration and anger. It's unfortunate, but it's true, and it's something that I have been trying to get a better grip on. Yet how does one relax, after years spent building and hoarding, how does one learn to release? To learn to let go of the desire to feel in control, of the desperate need to be so, of expectation, and even more challenging, the fierce fragility of self? For the truth is, it's easy to put pen to paper and declare a resolution against hoarding annoyances, to vow to control ones temper, and even to dream up all of these great means of restoring calm, but to learn it, to make it so-- aahhh... that's the difficult part. And so I think that one of the most challenging things about life, about the evolution of a soul, so to speak, is the sheer exhaustion of it, the fact that we are never done, that our days and ways are often a series of two steps forward and ten steps back. It's knowing on such a deep level who we are and who we want to be, and somehow learning to love one without giving up the need for the other. It's learning to let go not just of the anxiety inducing minutiae of life, but of the sense of guilt over not yet being who we want to be; it's about trying to see progress, I suppose, even if sometimes, that progress comes down to knowing that we have come far, but still have many miles to go.

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