I am not bedazzled by my muddy water

“Contemplation does not rest until it has found the object which dazzles it.” 
~ Konrad Weiss

And the truth is, I probably won’t be. Dazzled that is. By ever finding what is at the root of why I feel like such an outlier, even if it is primarily in the areas of beauty, poise and perhaps for the sake of being even more self deprecating, grace.

The truth is, I am now asking myself why I am even searching for that. I don’t think it is ever going to be known. And while a part of me is reconciled to that, part of me rebels and insists that it can be defined. I don’t know which is the better mental beast to grapple with.

I am guessing it has more to do with just being. Something I have managed to lose sight of, I think it is even possible I took that mirror (as rose colored as it may have been) and threw it down because I no longer allowed myself to believe that in my own world I was among the fairest of us all and started feeling like the most wretched. I have allowed myself to be less optimistic and begun to focus on the more pessimistic. Something that makes my whole body sick, and probably angry. This feels like an unnatural state.

I want to say; I am beautiful, I am a wonderful person, I am patient, I am kind, I am generous, I am loving, I am patient, and I am smart. And I don’t want to let someone that feels differently have the power to tell me otherwise.

For all my claims that I am a nice person, there are plenty of reminders that I am not. For all my trying to be fair, there is evidence I am not. For my claims that I am a beautiful person, there is proof I am not. I hate living in that place where the “are not’s” are allowed to win. I understand that there are both sides to my nature, but by embracing the dark I have begun to feel darker and I don’t like that I don’t have the strength to not listen to the people who think they can dictate how I feel about myself based on terms of what kind of woman they may or may not think I am (a hippie, self-serving, blah, blah, blah).  They are normally wrong.

I mean, who really gets to decide if I am good, beautiful and worthy human?

Isn’t that me, or is this something that gets to be dictated by people with extremely limited information and a basket load of their own demons? 

Why do I (and I assume others do this too) allow people with tendencies towards judgement and incomplete or even insufficient information get to decide what kind of person I am.  Why do I think you assume I don’t wear make-up because I am some sort of “natural living type”… or a hippie or that I don’t care about who I put out there.

Why do I allow others to hold up mirrors shaded in their own colors and allow that to dictate the colors with which I get to see myself?

How do I reclaim who I want to be and own it? How do I shut out others and allow myself to watch the mud settle?

“Muddy water, let stand, becomes clear.” 
~ Lao Tzu

To do this I must listen to those I know, who without a doubt, tell me that they love me and I need to listen and believe them when they tell me I am generous, kind, loving, beautiful. Otherwise I feed my demons and my angels are not allowed to sing.

“Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing.” ~ August Wilson

NaBloPoMo 17

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