Regressed

I went to bed last night extremely sad.  The tears that hardly ever come anymore appeared along with the words "Just how much more can I take?" and of course "It's hopeless.  It will never work out. This time I'm ruined for good."  Of course, I was very tired having only had four hours sleep the night before as sleeping in someones old discarded reclining chair that has been worn down to practically the metal isn't the most conducive of sleeping arrangements. 

Naturally, after a little more sleep but just as uncomfortable, this morning didn't work out so well either.  The boys woke up fighting with each other and I was low on tolerance for such horseplay and every move they made was like a spoon stirring through my already full cup of guilt.  When they said "I'm bored!" I heard "Your mother was right, you are a failure."  In my lowest moments, I always refer back to the story I was told by my parents, mainly that I would not amount to much. 

It's been a week and no word, not even a whisper, about the job I applied for and that translates to "nobody wants you, you silly, why do you delude yourself thinking it could ever change?"  On and on, the story goes that I and many others know so well.  Yes well, with millions upon millions of people on anti-depressant drugs and tranquilizers these days, I know I'm not alone.  There is actually a website called "Life sucks" and it's basic message is "it does not get better so get used to it."

"Why?", I ask myself, "Do we listen to and believe these stories about ourselves?"  When we see it coming why don't we just say "STOP" and recognize it for the sham, the lie, that it is?  Why don't I?"  Why do I continuously have to go through this rigorous questioning of myself to see whether or not I am indeed the story, this flat version of a life or whether I am something more?  I suspect it's conditioning. 

Most of us learn from an early age to be ashamed of ourselves when things don't turn out like the pretty picture in the magazine.  Nobody bothers to tell us that what we see there isn't even real.  It's air brushed and manipulated by someone else's fantasy version of what life should look like.  We get so used to looking at things from this materialistic viewpoint that a massive amount of the population doesn't even realize there is a depth to life.  The media is fantastic at brainwashing people into buying and consuming the most ridiculous things and it teaches us how to judge not only others but most importantly, ourselves.

So that's where I found myself this morning.  I'm coming out of it now.  I can feel the space around me again.  I can sense the depth of the breeze that is coming through the open door.  I don't know what will happen in the seconds after this one.  I know that I am breathing and my heart is beating right now.  I know that as long as that keeps happening I have a reason for being here.  I trust that when I remain open to the current of being I will wind up exactly where I am supposed to be.  I know I am right where I'm supposed to be right now in this moment.  How do I know it?  Because that is where I am.  What about you?