Unclaimed Living, Un-lived Life.
photo courtesy of @bcimagines
My life today is truly hard to claim. With every passing day the feelings grow on the side of "fail". Thirty nine years in the making and I still cannot see the value of my life or my experience in it. Every life at some point needs to be claimed by its owner, this may be at the root of progress within it or at the very least escape from it.
Do you claim your life?
Again I take a moment today to look at my life, I can see the closest proximity to family since I was nineteen, intermittent feelings of grounding, a nagging grief at the loss of my parents, and I see/feel about as far from the world as I have ever felt. The world goes on without me, and at no point in the last two or three years has it shown me a place in it I might call home. A growing sense that I do not walk or talk in a way that works in the world today.
Most of all as I think about today, it is a frustration with myself for knowing it is people and connection that can pull me back, return me into the world. And yet still to date I have the least amount of people in my life of all time.
People; it is not a new lesson.
The connection we have to the people around us is the life blood of each of us. My intermittent luck in being surrounded by amazing people is not lost on me, my ongoing inability to keep or refresh any of them might end up the single biggest life fail I have however.
So, how does someone move forward if this is their life? How does anyone grab their bootstraps and get back into life?
My first guess - is people and connection, but what else could it be? I am scheduled to go back to California the end of this year, and I have no idea how I feel about that. Is it a vacation from the two year long break in life this experience has brought me? Is it a chance to start something new and exciting, is it just another hiding place while I wait for the seams to come apart? Feels like the seams.
An entire lifetime of gypsy life & running shoes has taught me to see a spade as a spade if nothing else.
No one around me knows how long ago I quit on everything, and it only made things worse to see no one notice. We are told that if we need help we need to ask for it.
Yet if you do and no one listens - even if they hear - makes quitting all the easier.
I know many of the satellite people in my life care a great deal, And about the last things I do is make things easy, but it seems the older we get the less willing others are to engage, truly engage, outside of immediate family or partners.
So is is so strange to consider life is a series of lies we are told or tell ourselves?
The ones we tell ourselves when we need to, the ones we tell others to alter one perception or another. And the biggest of all, the one people see through all the masking.
One big lie wrapped in a shamed truth.