I had been blocked creatively for a couple months. I could write, but I didn’t have that burning desire that I’m used to. My work was coming from me sluggishly, I had to coax it. Now, I feel like I can’t type fast enough, write fast enough, or think slow enough to catch everything begging to be displayed and explored. I am intoxicated with it. Before, I couldn’t tell how unclear my mind was. I knew it wasn’t what I was used to, but I had no idea, until I had clarity, of how off track I was. Now I feel the veil dissipate more and more each day. I know it’s not a physical lifting, but my mental view of my spiritual self can clearly see and feel the difference. My heart is sad, but even that sadness has appreciation. Normally I would mope or be angry, maybe even bitter(because this hurt is a doozie), but I’m content.
At first I thought I was living on the tip top of a high; maybe borderline manic. I waited for the other shoe to drop. Waited for the depression and decline to hit me. After a few days of continued deep thought/meditation, I realized this isn’t fake. I have a genuine sense of self. A sense of contentment and happiness. It came from WITHIN me. People talk about finding happiness in oneself. I always said “how the heck do you do that if you’ve never had it before”. I found that the answer to my question was to just do it. I decided to be happy. I decided not to let this utter disappointment break me down. I decided to have hope and faith in the person, to do what is best for myself, and to control my thoughts and my emotions. Days and days of thinking and meditating and I got to the plateau. I got to the place where I had accepted the truth for what it is, I let go, I hit reality, and I hit my happiness through heartbreak.