So much of life is out of my control and yet there I was trying to dictate the outcomes. Maybe it made me feel safer, more secure, to believe I knew the exact way in which I influenced the world around me and vice versa. There I was, constantly trying to project myself into some unknown future, constantly trying to control something that hasn’t happened and isn’t guaranteed to happen, stressing myself out, and for what?
I’ve always been called a very ambitious person, making goals and plans, plans and agendas. Maybe I felt I had an image to uphold. Maybe I thought I wouldn’t grow
if I didn’t have a tight and very filled schedule. That’s always been my excuse, “If I don’t do something, how am I suppose to grow?” I decided I needed to avoid reincarnation. I didn’t want to come back. I played it like a game in that I had to collect it all in order to be approved for the next level. Not cars, clothes, shoes, but spiritually, relationships, travel, school, work, debt it was still part of the game for me. So I had to do something. It’s always something.
My mind can’t solve this puzzle, this labyrinth, this mind-fuck. There’s no end. There’s never enough. There’s always “some thing”, or “someone”, or “some place”, or “some job”, or “some school”, or “some tactic”. Or I could die right now.