dissonance.

another pre-dawn wake-up call from the Director of the cosmos. my dreams, like riddles for my awakened mind. it always takes me a while to process that which ebbs + flows around me. yesterday’s powerful newmoon heralded springtime’s sweet entrance. i am lost in the reverie of Life and Love and failure and growth.

‘tis the season for breakthrough.

. . .

i’m back to dating after an intentional winter hiatus. i thought, there for a bit, i had someone in my Life who would be kind to my heart. but he turned out to be a refined play-actor, skilled at getting whatever he wants, by whatever means necessary.

we humans are not particularly a kind nor generous breed.

another lesson learned; moving right along.

. . .

as i dip my toes back into the mating ritual’s shallow end, though, of light introductions + what-brings-you-here stories, i am horrified at the unwavering cadence of modernity’s favorite psychological buzzwords— narcissist / narcissistic / narcissism.

for those of you who are unaware, allow me to introduce you to

the dating pool—

where all of the exes are narcissists. and all of the singletons are victims.

i cannot tell if i am assimilated or not— the walls of mirrors that surround me only reflect the deficiencies in my own character.

. . .

for the record—

no one in their right mind would choose modern dating as a path for mental health.

convoluted. complicated. over-stimulated. over-indulged.

absolutely saturated with fake.

and why?

because to seek that which is Real is far more challenging an approach to connection than allowing one’s self to be seduced by that which is cleverest and most manipulative.

i’m sure some psychologists would argue survival of the fittest. i would argue back, intentional deconstruction of The Truth.

to partake in fantasy instead of embracing reality— it’s how the sheep get led to the slaughter.

medicated. indoctrinated. anesthetized.

we never even stood a chance.

. . .

every once in a while, though, i encounter an individual who is receptive to healing. whose heart is aimed at wanting what is best— for themselves + others. who tells The Truth, no matter what. who responds to Agape openly— their parched soul delighted to have found the bottomless well of Unconditional Love.

these individuals give me Hope.

. . .

> my how short my report on Hope.

. . .

these musings within my mind feel unorganized + discordant— like an orchestra during it’s warmup when each individual instrument is being tuned to perfection by each individual musician.

the dissonance between Truth + Hope is jarring.

. . .

but, as with every situation that brings confusion and despair— i lean closer into Papa. + ponder my own role as the narcissist in someone else’s story. i seek to become aware of all of the ways in which i am offensive to others. and i am instantaneously exhausted.

for i know, within, that i am even offensive to me—

those parts of the me that i just don’t like to be.

parts that will always need forgiveness.

. . .

how grateful i be to have made peace with my shadow long ago.

now if i can just find The Man who has made such peace with his own shadow + wants to share the Adventure with me.

dot dot. dot dot dot dot.

. . .

on a less personal note:

be careful when you talk about the people you don’t get along with. whether it be your ex, your boss, your Mom, whoever it be that wronged you (or wrongs you still) so desperately in this Life that you feel as though you will never be the same—

i get it. i see you. i hear you.

betrayal sucks.

but if we take a long enough look in the mirror of Truth— we must acknowledge that we have played the betrayer, too.

because we are all complicated.

we are all in need of Grace.

. . .

so let’s be nice, y’all.

because somewhere out there, someone else is calling you a narcissist, too.

(can we lose that word now?)

. . .

Love you. mean it.