he initial phases of acclimating myself to my new surroundings are going well. It is always interesting to go to a completely new place. I used to watch my cats go around and sniff the new spots to get the scent then promptly spray in order to mark territory. Funny, but humans do the same thing to some degree. We go walk around, spend money in shops, talk to new people for no other purpose then to introduce ourselves, and then go home. While we are not spraying, I liken the spending money and talking to be marking our territories. Now, if I could only find a perch high enough....lol.
So, there I was in Albertson's (a food store), spending money to mark territory, talking with my sister. She is a pretty wonderful women and a fabulous artist. Hi, sis! Anyway, we were talking about happiness and our childhood. I always feel bad when we do because she experienced the unhappiness that is an abusive, drunkard father and passive-aggressive mother than I ever did. I guess that we both acted out in our own rights and rebelled against his stupidity in our own ways. I did threaten to kill him one day to face, which is probably why he never wanted to be around me alone when I got older. Never went shooting with me again after that either...He definitely failed the man test on all levels...see last blog for greater clarity.
Anyway, I feel bad because in the interim years, I have experienced things which have made our childhood memories pale in comparison. I am no longer scared of that monster under my bed. Replaced by far worse. Others have had it harder, I know. Much, much harder in fact. However, I guess the glass never did empty, and just kept filling up. Perhaps, the monster just got sat on and squashed by larger ones? It is still there, but more like road pizza...something to be pitied rather than feared.
Does that make me better or more capable to cope? No, not really. I think that my sister has it over on me in that regard. She is a better person in all regards. I have found myself lacking in certain areas in my life these past few years and being so misanthropic as I am, I wonder if I can steer a better course? It isn't always the best thing in the world to be able to compartmentalize one's life. I would not go as far as saying that it is akin to a Jungian dissociation, but some things are best left unsaid or undercover so to speak. Sometimes, people get in and open doors that you want to remain closed.
Sometimes it is a word or gesture, but you know how it goes. There is a glimmer of what could or should have been. Something that you long ago suppressed as outside the realm of possibility for you. I think most know of what I speak. I believe it was the only thing left in Pandora's little box. Regardless, as I previously discussed, we all develop coping mechanisms from the daily grinds and/or horrors of our lives; moreover, there are some of us who impose such mechanisms on joy and happiness. Both can be powerfully addictive in their own rights! Therefore, in order to prevent the inevitable feelings of a return to normalcy after obtaining such lofty heights, one simply goes out of the way to avoid them. Isn't that really what horror is? Feeling that painful realization of knowing that whatever you have experienced in happiness is gone and replaced by that longing for a return? Sisyphus is then a possible archetype for horror in this case.
Courage then is not just about moving towards the sound of the guns. It is facing the sound of those little voices that tell us to stay down, don't speak up, don't change. I have done some brave things in my life, but never one so frightful in realizing for the first time in nearly ten years that I cannot return to the way of life that I once led. My life has profoundly changed over the last several years not in a material way, but in something deeper and more spiritual. The most imperceptible gesture sometimes acts as a cascade effect that goes almost unnoticed at the time. Think of the tiniest snowflake at the top of the mountain and then think of the avalanche it created at the bottom. Did that flake have an appetite for destruction? No, it was a simple thing that had a huge impact. Realization was the avalanche.
All this from a simple question of would you like to dance.
Please, note. No real snowflakes were hurt in the making of this blog.
