Why does life have to be so difficult? Why can't life be series of events falling into logical order, easy flow, meshing of minds? Instead it is a chaotic storm I have to fight my way through, struggling for every step, blurring my vision, pounding at every fiber of my being? I feel as if I am out of phase with everything around me, as if I am living in an odd parallel universe and my timing is always off. I just wish for once that I could synch up with the chaos that surrounds me, then maybe it would cease to be chaos and settle into a comprehensible pattern.
Maybe what makes my timing off is that I will think about something from so many angles that I miss the opportune moment to take action? Over-analyze, pick apart every nuance, try to understand all my motivations until my last desperate chance has moved far beyond my reach? Or is it my other half, my Leap Before I Look half, that has me jumping off the trestle before the slow moving freight train is beneath me, so that instead of hitching a free ride I am instead run over and mangled beyond recognition? No matter the reason, I set myself up for Epic Fail time and time again. And it doesn't get any easier.
If anything, it gets more difficult with every failed attempt. Yeah, yeah, better to try and fail than to fail because I did not try. But holymotherfuckingbaldpalamino it is so hard to keep extending myself, over and over, to face rejection and failure despite my best efforts. And this has been applying to almost every aspect of my life for a while. Yes, having a pity party, trying to accept that my latest, greatest and by far the riskiest endeavor is likely to leave me unable to scrape myself off the tracks this time.
The one good thing that will come out of all of this is a far deeper understanding of myself than I would have ever achieved if life had been easy. Or it has caused me to develop a multitude of facets to deal with all the chaos. But I guess that is a Chicken or Egg concept. I have come to realize that it is not the dark aspects of my nature that I have held deeply hidden these last few years. On the contrary, it is the soft and vulnerable Me, the Maiden and Mother, that crawled into a foxhole and allowed my angry, dark-visaged Warrior to take the protective, impenetrable stance. The crux of this is that although the Warrior will defend to the death, and protect the vulnerable Me from spiritual death, she is also inflexible, hostile and over-defensive. She takes offense at any real or imagined slight, not recognizing friend from foe, She is dangerous, chaotic and destructive. I think the time of need for the Warrior has passed, the soft, vulnerable, nuturing Me, the Maiden and Mother, have been needing release from a foxhole that has become like a prisoner of war camp. I am slowly, very slowly, learning to tap into my attributes, attempting to make them do my bidding instead of allowing them to control me. We are a package deal: Maiden/Mother/Warrior. An indestructable Trinity. But gods, what a handful!