I think the impending birthday might have something to do with this existentialism that has suddenly invaded my poor soul. I was only 16 when I heard during a philosophy class that we are solely responsible for giving meaning to life and for living life passionately and sincerely. Almost 24 years later this remains as one of the most sound and logical advice any adult provided me during my teenage years. Maybe the lack of parental supervision helped me understand such complex concept.
One which many adults continue to struggle with.
Adults (writing from the place where my 16 year old self spirit resides) tend to compare themselves to others.... they also tend to ask themselves why some are happy and they themselves are not. Which in return contributes to hatred, remorse, guilt and a lack of self worth.
I could have spent most of my childhood and adulthood wondering...
Why was I left to fend for myself?
Was I not lovable or important enough?
But at 16.... I was given a choice.
The choice to give meaning to life.
To live life passionately and sincerely.
So I searched....
Through the church... Through men and women... Through the children... Through oceans and mountains... Through the lovers I loved... Through the sages and wise women... Through those that would hurt me.
Presently I stand at the gates of forty and all these emotions and feelings are not a middle life crisis. They are simply me coming to self. A slow and quiet unfolding of self. The understanding of who I was and will be.
Stay Sweet Peeps!