Life without purpose becomes blurry. Nothing is worthy of focus, of attention. So time passes and nothing is achieved. Events occur around me, but they are irrelevant. Transient. Fleeting. And if no relevance is found, the mind is dulled. Or quieted. I'm not sure. And meaning becomes either precious or a nuisance. I guess which depends in the meaning's nature. Is it good, is it bad? Pleasurable, hurtful? I hypothesize that if enough dullness is experienced, any meaning, of any kind, would be a relief. So is dullness, an emotional void, sometimes portrayed in books and movies & such. Pain, even, becomes a relief.
So why am I in this state? I should be happy, enjoying my stay in Guatemala. Why do I feel dull? I hypothesize it is due to a combination of having no steady responsibility, like a job or studies, no routine, and few friends to hang out with. I have friends, and they are good. But I'm afraid to admit needing them. I'm afraid of needing them... I should need nothing and no one. But that would make me... a hermit? Not necessarily. Having friends and needing friends are different.
But also, I think my psyche is blocking my grief and my sadness of having lost some physical attributes to my recent accident. I feel ashamed (or do I?) of my new seeming limits, my new fears. Of not daring to jump down a foot high, of being unable to move faster than a running child. Of being afraid of trees and of dancing and of playing tag or simply being agile as before. I'm afraid that my new fears will limit me further than I already physically am. I'm afraid of accepting my new state. And as I write this I weep, giving credence to my hypothesis. The emotional void is preferable to the grief. The irresoluble grief. What can I do about it?
Wait. Exercise, hope, and wait. And pray. Praying involves faith. But it expresses intention. I wonder if I'll ever stop wishing that my accident was a dream.
May 15th, 2011
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