Back down to Earth
I just went for a five mile long walk, ostensibly to gather data for my much delayed Environmental Studies class. The truth is far simpler, though my motives far more recondite. I don’t want to be at the house for the urine collection, but the guilt I feel forces me to lie to myself and my housemates that I really have something more important to do.
If I get up with my schoolwork I’ll put up some of the short answer essays I have been working on all day for PTK scholarships. There’s only 12 of them! and three recommendations and a transcript – all told the writing is almost 5000 words!
What do I feel so guilty about? What am I beating myself up for? I haven’t “slipped” in Recovery. I haven’t picked up any new habits. I am embracing sobriety and trying to wring every ounce of being out of it. Somehow though it feels forced, as if I am trying to convince myself. Much like how I am constantly trying to convince myself that I deserve my grades. Or that I can ever belong at a real University.
Am I Unworthy?
If bein’ wrong’s a crime, I’m serving forever
If bein’ strong is what you want, then I need help here with this feather
Meanwhile, my Environmental Studies lab isn’t getting any more done by me hiding out in Dunkin Donuts. I justify it by telling myself that, “I have a 102% average, one missed lab won’t ruin that”. If only I really believed all of my lies. Why then do I knowingly lie to myself? What am I feeling so guilty about? What sin have I committed that I think so little of myself?
The past and the future are meeting right now, in the present. If it is calm that is an illusion, like the eye of a hurricane. The Now of creation is a violent and terrifying place – all futures are just as real and all pasts jockey for position. The farther away from this instant I get things become obscure and lose reality, but here everything is too real and vibrant.
They flutter behind you your possible pasts
Some bright-eyed and crazy, some frightened and lost
A warning to anyone still in command
Of their possible future, to take care
What about possible futures?
I caught a glimpse of a possible future yesterday at the University. My fear tells me to grab onto that dream, hold it tight, and in doing so lose it forever. I know that to live in the illusion in my mind is to forsake the real world. With the same mind that I know the one image to be a dream that will take shape through much diligent effort on my part and even then it will be its own, not the way I imagine it now. With that same mind I know all too well how certain and frighteningly real will be my doom if I am given to believing illusions. When the mirror is broken and my faith is nothing, am I strong enough to save myself from the abyss?
Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions
I keep my visions to myself, it’s only me
Who wants to wrap around your dreams and,
Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?
My Crystal Ball
Didn’t we learn anything from Macbeth? You can’t trust witches, oracles, mystics, or prophets. Nothing is certain except that at this instant all futures and all pasts are very real. Do we get to choose how the threads are woven together? If there is a cosmic web the pattern cannot be discerned by something that is itself a part of the tapestry. Queue the Big Question: if the Universe is so vast and complex, the patterns too subtle and time so incomprehensible then what am I supposed to be doing with this gift (curse) of life?
Shatters your brain in a million tiny pieces
The sounds you hear aren’t coming out right
You think it might be mystic, you think I might be cryptic
The crystal in your china case is breaking in a million tiny pieces