Wednesday, 20 August 2008
So this is what hope does: feeling tired and sick, trouble concentrating, most upset by an unexpected dose of virulent criticism, although rational judgement says it's not very justified and mostly the critic's 'stuff'.
Going home to another house last week, I saw a potential me, the same but different, happier. Sitting in the meditation hall on retreat, I saw a potential me who gave more of her heart to this practice, happier. Reading, writing, thinking, I saw lately what I would like to take my mind more deeply into, happier. A 'different me' is not quite it; more like just fewer boundaries, limitations. The merest intimations of such a thing make my soul curl up in fear, leave me weary, ill, unfocused. How tight is the grip of habit, the fear of letting go!
So drawn by this stripey building, I kept taking photos. It's not even a nice building, a gaudy, plastified warehouse across the canal. What I love is the way it's not just one thing, but alternating opposites. Its shimmering, stripey reflection draws me even more.
Wanting to embrace my own stripiness, but it's so hard: hard work holding the illusion of one solid, monochrome self, but harder still to let go and let your stripes shimmer.