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boat-adrift

I’ve been flailing around for weeks and weeks now since I started “restoring” myself with the pieces of me I found in my “heart’s cave.” That may be because there was one little thing I forgot. I wasn’t just digging up pieces of myself I might have lost from the past, I was also stripping away a lot of what I’d become in the meantime, of what has made me me. I forgot that I wasn’t just a Seeker of past meanings in the process of discovering the purpose of and making sense of my life experiences. I’ve also become a Maker of meanings over the years. I’ve taken new things that have happened to me in my life and given them special meanings, building them into the me I am now.

Jungian psychologist Alice O. Howell says,

“What we are looking for on earth and in earth and in ourselves is the process that can unlock for us the mystery of meaningfulness in our daily lives. We can only see half of anything. The other half is the meaning we give to what we see.”

I think I forgot that what is a part of me already has deep meaning for me. I find myself wondering if I was mistakenly trying to recreate myself from scratch. Have I pulled the old “onion slight of hand?” Have I peeled away so many layers of me that I’ve been left with a blank page and I’m thinking, what the heck??? Where’d my life go? What about all those lessons I’ve learned along the way? Is that why my life seems so gray all of a sudden?

I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve taken away the mystery of my life, the spirituality, so to speak. And the thing is, it’s through that very spirituality that I find meaning in my life. And in the same way I’d strip paint from a cupboard before I can refinish it, I’ve stripped away the essence of who I have become.

I’m not sure what I’m saying. I’m still working through my thoughts. But I know I’ve felt totally unmoored the last few months. Perhaps it’s time to leave those bits and pieces down there in the cave for now and go walk-about. See if I can find those vestiges of me that I’ve inadvertently peeled away. I need to find my way BACK to the who I am now. That seems so backassward to me. But maybe that old saying is true after all, you really can’t go home anymore… Does that mean it was a mistake to try?

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Picture Sources:
drifting boat — Reflections on Grace
little girl on road — nomadicalsabbatical.com