I keep a journal and I write in it pretty much every morning. I have noticed that sometimes I become focused on the need to write something deep and profound in this journal every day. But I’m thinking about this and I’ve realized that deep and profound has nothing to do with it. Actually what I am trying to do is to write something that is satisfying every day. When I have written something that allows me to get to the core of what I’m thinking and what I’m feeling what I am left with is a very satisfied feeling.
Having the opportunity to express ourselves to someone else, being able to say to someone what we really think, what we really feel, that is the path to fulfillment. Now I do realize that this idea may change over the coming years but even that is not necessarily an indication of my self-doubt about this particular idea but more the knowledge that anything and everything we come to know about ourselves, about others, about human life in particular is subject to evolution which encompasses change in the form of expansion, in the form of deeper clarity. How cool is that?
Right now the only person with whom I am fairly comfortable disclosing my feelings is my therapist. A shout-out to her for allowing me to get to that point. It has not been easy for her this I know. And in that opportunity I have realized that the way I feel sometimes walking out of her office and for the rest of the day after having been able to express something that I truly feel touches that place of satisfaction. And what that satisfaction is I do believe is just the tiniest bit of that elusive thing we’ve come to know as fulfillment.
This is a harbinger of things to come…
To this point I thought that being able to talk about my emotions was just a matter of relieving the pressure I have felt building for so long due to the fact that I’ve held them in for so long. Years and years of pent-up emotions that never had a chance to be outed. I have a picture in my mind’s eye of a well that is filled to the top with garbage and if I could find a way to empty that well of the garbage little by little until I finally reached the bottom well then I would feel better. Totally cleaned out and starting from scratch. And while that may be partly true it isn’t the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
This feeling of satisfaction that I get when I can talk to her in a way that is completely honest and in a way that gets to the core of my real feelings might just be the spark, a tiny little hint of how it feels to live my life as my true self. I have been fake for so long that I have lost – or I should say I never had -the knowledge of what it is to live as me, to recognize what it feels like to BE me, as I really and truly am and I am quite sure that these brief times of satisfaction that I feel in the expression of what I know to be true for me is a glimpse into the experience that is available to me if I live as me, the real me.
Now I know.