For a brief window of time, that I was living in not two months ago, I had a momentum going that had me feeling I could possibly be getting somewhere. In the months leading up to Simone's wedding, there seemed to be a Grace come to call - a mysterious force that began to operate, descending from the heavens, lifting me upward, out of my perceived limitations. I actually felt capable. Not fearless, no - but capable of facing that fear. Capable of existing with the fear, willing to discover who I ultimately am beyond the fear. But that willingness and sense of capability seem to have left me now. Before the newlyweds had even returned from their honeymoon, I'd begun to backslide.
Friends have called and have invited me to hang out. I've been given plenty of opportunities to practice jumping beyond what has been - and I haven't taken any of them. I can't explain it. I feel stuck again and all I want to do is hide. I feel tired. Despite what my mind is saying, how it "wants" to do this and that, in the actual moment of choice, I'm struck with a psychic paralysis that keeps me from doing what my most ambitious self would have me do.
Frankly, I'm a little pissed about all of this inner struggle. I'm feeling a little sorry for myself at the moment. I'm feeling a little defective. But the truth is, I'm being extremely lazy about it, disregarding all of the wisdom I have at my disposal, folding my arms as if I were powerless to see it another way - when I know that's not the case. My bad.
I have the recent memories of how sweet it is when I actually do venture outside my front door. So the spark is still there; it isn't gone. But that doesn't mean it's being kindled.