I am doomed at being me.

      So much of my life is infused with emotions that threaten to overcome me. I take a moment to step outside myself to gain control. To what end do I hope to gain by such actions as these?  Control is nothing more than an illusion, a lie that I tell myself. To what end do I go to fool myself, to pull a veil over my eyes? As blind as I am to what I think is true about myself, my self-perception is nothing more than what I believe I can see reflected in the eyes of others.

    What of the eyes of others? Their sight is as much veiled as my own. Let me not forget my grand illusion of control. For all the good it does me to step outside myself, I must let God step in and stay. If I cannot do this and see my self- worth through the unveiled eyes of God I will forever be doomed at being me.

     As my emotions rage, I am a ship that is tossed in the subsequent tidal waves of the ocean that my emotions have become. They are always reaching to pull me under, no matter how hard I try to steer my vessel around the waves. It matters not the direction I steer for I am trapped and pulled under by the waves.

    If I could just hear the voice of God   telling me, “Be still and know that I am God,” Psalm 41:10.  However I am too much inside my mind. I have placed the captain’s hat upon my head. Even when I do ask God to take the helm, I am still trying to co-captain by shouting my doubts: “Where we going?”  And as if that is not enough I am telling God, “You’re going the wrong way.”  When I try and get still and listen to God I too often only hear my question, “Are we there yet?”

   The control over the vessel is not my own. I cannot captain or co-captain. I can only place the life preserver of Christ around my heart. I must trust in the pure and honest sight of God, that, regardless of the storm, He sees a vessel worthy of love to sail upon a sea of tranquil peace. I will not, and I am not doomed at being me.

Left for Decay

A journey outward and reflections of my inner self: what I was, who I am, what I will be. I have been in an inner struggle with myself for years. I am not sure when it started, perhaps whenever I first became conscious of “self.” Regardless, here I am at the age of forty, still in an inner struggle. I have come to a few conclusions about this. Not all are based in fact, however. All have truth in the simple sense that if I believe something, I give it life enough to become truth to me. The first thing that I need to do is step outside the inside of me. That thought, in and of itself, ignites a fuse, and chaos ensues. I am very fond of the saying, “If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.” However, there is some part of my brain that is miswired and translates this into action: “Break it.” There are things that have happened to me that were well beyond my control. Those are things that will be addressed in time. There are also things where I can blindly see the damage that was done to others as well as to me. I use the term blindly for the simple fact that I have yet to organize the pieces into a clear image. I have seen some amazing pieces of art that have moved me deeply, pieces constructed from nothing more than what was tossed away and left for decay. I want to believe that somehow I can pick up the pieces of myself and cast them into something just as amazing. Yet I am unable to see past the smoke and fragments that cloud the vision I have of myself. How do I begin to gather up what is left and turn myself, my life, into something worth living?