One day, not too long ago, I was reading my old journals and it dawned on me that issues I wrote about back then are still with me today, maybe even stronger. Has anything changed? I’m still questioning demons that I assumed I’d released myself from, but they still dwell inside, still feel at home in a world I thought I’d made alien to them. So what’s the point of continuously writing about things that won’t go away?
Maybe that ‘is’ the point… all these questions; my hopes and fears are a part of me. As the Buddha said, “be careful of what you destroy for it might be the best part.” as these parts turned around to their opposites; such as hate, turn it into love. The contrast is needed to fully understand the complete sensation of ‘love’.
The act of writing recognizes, all be it a continuous and repetitive endeavor, that all parts good and bad are still with me. Though they may lay doormat they still influence me and all I do. The trick is in the awareness, the mindfulness we practice as we seek knowledge of all things which encompass our being… good and bad. This is why we feel these issues stronger than before; awareness shines a light deep inside the abyss.
So I will honest in my writing, not glossing it over and will savor the repetitions. The old demons never really go away; they just require a nod and a wink. Everything wants recognition and acknowledgment, and then we move on.