because none of us is fucking up like we think we are, is what i'm trying to say

Friday, 10 August 2012

Then, Now, Later

And the truth is
You gotta have the balls to change

- Vinnie Jones

Because I am a mental, I happen to believe that the universe is designed in such a way that parts of my life plan have already been written.

I believe that it’s my job- in this version of my life (because, of course, we have probably have seven, as per the String Theory of Physics)- to figure out how to get where my ultimate purpose already lies. My ultimate purpose was written long ago, and now requires that I use my own freewill and self-determination to reach it. The result is there, it’s just kind of waiting for my efforts to join it. But if I don’t reach my ultimate purpose this time around, I get another life, and to try again.

Each life I live is informed by the previous one, so in each existence I am (in theory) more adept at fulfilling my personal legend as I play the Computer Game of Life over and over, learning the tricks and the special ways of winning. With every new life I get another chance at progressing to the next ‘level’, and eventually I will have a sort of peak episodic moment of epiphany and then disappear into the ether forever because I WON THE WORLD. Hopefully in a cloud of glitter smoke. And to somewhere with rice balls.

Public service announcement: I appreciate that maybe you won’t all be totally with me on this. I kind of expect that. But I have a point- I promise.

I believe that our destiny was written by us before we were even born, when we were angels. We decided who we would meet along this path toward fulfilling our destiny so that they could help us.

In my imagination, there’s a dozen or so fellow angels appointed to our journey. We have to follow our hearts, heed the omens, and listen to the universe- live purposefully- in order to recognise who these angels are.

They aren’t always noble and kind, these angels. Sometimes, the angels we appointed to ourselves, back when we were invisible in the skies of something bigger than what we are conscious of now here on earth, were precisely because they lack angle-like qualities. The bitch at the office, that frenemy you can’t quite shake- they are as worthy as teachers for us, the eternal students of life, as the man you met when you had just stopped believing in love for love’s sake, or the author who you cried to when you met her because she seemed to know you better than you know yourself.

It’s all part of something bigger- random doesn’t exist. It’s all happening exactly how it should be happening.

I’ve written extensively about my quest to fulfil my potential this year, a journey that I supposed would involve watching a few more films and being smarter about my choice of literature. Maybe fulfilling my potential would involve partying a bit less, and working a bit harder. A few more vegetables. Smiling more.

I was totally unprepared for the past eight months to be a sort of social experiment documented online, wherein I turned my insides onto the outside for extreme self-examination. Fulfilling my potential has become an analysis made up of many whys, and as I have given myself the space to wonder about the reasons behind how I live my life, I’ve been able to see how it is holding me back from progressing to the next level in the Computer Game of My Imagination.

I said long ago that I could feel the wind beneath my sails changing, but that I couldn’t figure out how, exactly, at that moment.

Slowly, carefully, painfully, I feel like I am rising to the surface of a really deep plunge-pool, and starting to understand the process I have deliberately and tenaciously put myself through this year. I never thought I’d be this girl- I mean, I’ve written about some real hippy shit. Who knew I had it in me?

But now, as I see the sunlight dappling on the surface of this deep-ass water I call The Year of Potential, I have to recognise that it’s time to kick a little faster toward where I can take a huge gulp of new, fresh, unknown air, and spend some time doing rather than thinking.

I’m going on holiday today, visiting friends and reading and writing letters to strangers and sleeping and partying and drinking (but definitely not smoking), and over this next week I want to remember to say, I learnt something, now I’m going to do something.

To let it marinade, I’m going offline for a week, which basically feels like forever. But I need that time to percolate. I just need a little break. To think. They tell me it’s good for you.

I’m ready to stop talking about these big old lessons, and start applying them instead. My destiny is waiting for me, and after all this self-assessment and psychology, I think I’m ready to grab it by the balls and say proudly, TODAY I’M MY OWN ANGEL.

I’m gonna be my own motherfucking guide for a while.  

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