Transferring some older writings to this more permanent home… pardon the duplication! 🙂

So I woke up this morning with the rather painfully disconcerting realization that I may never be perfect. You may laugh at that – even I can summon a chuckle – but the tears trickling down my cheek reveal just how long and how deeply I have held this holy grail as my vision. Even now I can’t let it fully go – I can’t say, I will never be perfect. Only that I may not.

Where does that leave me? Right now, I really don’t know. It leaves me still sitting with the crone at the crossroads, that much is clear. Not knowing what is ahead, only becoming clearer and clearer that what lays behind was a road full of illusion, delusion, seclusion – all “oozing” together in one great muddy mess.

Who am I, if I am not the seeker on the road to perfection? What am I, if I discover this goal is unattainable, a foolish expectation I somehow set before myself and began to invest my life in attaining? Where does this leave me?

Rowan Jason trees Piggs Landing MO River 004

The road stretched on before me…

For some, this will mean you’ve got my number – my enneagram number, that is. Congratulations. I’m still not sure about that, but I’ll admit this does seem to be an indication. Of course, my next question there – once one suspects a number, or a tri-number, as the case may be, for those of us whose numbers line up too closely to seem helpful, then what? I knew I was an INTJ borderline INFJ for years, but I never could figure out what to do with that information. It didn’t come up on my resume or in the dating game or during prayer time. Perhaps it should have.

No, unfortunately, I still don’t know where this leaves me. Feeling more homeless than ever, I suppose. More upside down than ever. Why else would I devote myself to studying and writing and learning about Home, than this overwhelming urge to find it? If I can’t be perfect, or live a life trying to be, then what is left? I have no desire to live a life of mediocrity. And yet I think to myself, how judgmental, how critical. How black and white. Perhaps there is an inbetween?

For now, I sit at the crossroads, and I wait. And I breath. And I be. I practice patience and taking one step at a time, what I know is mine to do right this very minute. And I know the answers will come, and the directions will come, and that someday soon I will stand up, and strike out along my next road, path clear in my head, clearer than ever before, now that I’ve let go of my unrealistic expectations.

That will be a beautiful day. And for now, I will honor this day, and this place, this sitting, this waiting, this seeing, for another type of beauty, like the beauty of the desert or the great red rocks – in some eyes harsh and cold, unyielding, unresponsive, but always to me so gorgeous in their strength, their ultimate IS-ness, their grotesque, Quasimodo magnificence.

I am grateful for this realization. In the light of a stunning Leo moon, I had set the intention of letting go of whatever was holding me back from the path of highest good. My dreams helped bring this point to my awareness, helped me see that this is one of those Big Ones that had been staring me in the face until I went blind from its glare. I am grateful for this guidance.

Where did I first learn of this quest, first feel it beating the drum of driven achievement, of numberless shoulds and shouldn’ts, of approval seeking, proving myself worthy of love over and over again, each time I thought I made another baby step toward the goal? How many times did I crumble when the approval never came? When did I first begin to think this voice was my own, to push beyond all possibility of endurance until I lost myself in the dust of my own journey? And how many times did I stand up, once again, brushing off that dust, determined that THIS time, it really WOULD happen? No matter how clearly the Knower in me gently whispered the truth.

No, I am not a victim, and I do not wish to sound as such. I have made each choice that has shaped my life thus far, and am continuing to do so. I am strong. I am strong enough to look at my weaknesses, and realize, it’s time to find their origins, and to let some of them go. I am strong enough to confront the voices within and tell them, I will walk this path no more. I am strong enough to face the world and say, this is who I am. This is where I’ve been. And while I may not see clearly where I’m going, I know it will be a place of beauty, whether soft and beckoning, or harsh and strong, and I know that for this moment, I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

The further back I gaze on the road of my past, the more clearly I see the road of my future, and I realize that both converge in this space, this moment. Now. I am not perfect here, as some would define perfection, and I will not be perfect there, but I will be me. And that is enough. And that is a beautiful thing.

And so it is. And so Am I.

© 2012 Mary Batson,
All rights reserved, including the one to pick my path on line of sight.


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