Reconstruction shines a glaring light on the fact that much of my fear, much of my trajectory in belief, my current hesitation to identify with anything at all, is rooted in my particular unskillfulness in being able to both uphold something as good, or worse, best, without steamrolling those around me. So I, and I suspect many wading in the sort of temporary retention basin of deconstruction, float.
Float.
Float.
Float.
And just when I begin to drift toward the bank of certitude, I find all of those former emotions, responses, surfacing as well, and in panic I instead push off the bank and back to the center of nothing.
At least, that’s what I was doing for a long time. But I’m getting tired of wading here, I sense my time here is ending. I’ve collected…hoarded… so much food for thought. and I’m ready to put my feet on some solid ground.
But the perennial problem remains unsolved: how do we progress and achieve, for ourselves and collectively (which pragmatically speaking, requires strong identification with and belief in something), without hurting those around us? Without endless arguments with those we must work with?
How do we let go when holding on is what propels us forward?
How do we move from stagnancy to the forward motion of healthy ideals?
How do we have ideals without the isms?
How do we care about something better without inviting shame when we feel lesser?
I’ve asked these questions before, at pivotal moments in life, from different frameworks and with different conclusions.
I guess this is the continual work of reinvention. Of growth. Of deeper understanding. Which sometimes feels like no understanding at all.