Yes, we are all perfect just as we are in this very moment even if we individually gaze at our own reflection and focus on each blemish in our skin, or freckle on our nose, or extra fat under our chin, or wrinkle near our mouth, or pimple on our forehead. None of these perceived flaws make us less perfect or less desirable … believe me. I struggle with this idea even if I know this to be true. Our brains are strange things, aren’t they? Attempting to convince us of such an inaccuracy as if it were an objective truth when the only truth there exists is love.
I struggle with absolute concepts. My soul … my heart … my core self does not concede to the idea that there is inherent evil and that which is defined as evil is therefore “bad”. I understand that people define things in such absolute ways, but I have great difficulty in agreeing. People are people. Each of us holds the light of divinity within us as well as the shadow. Our life experiences flow between the spectrum that lies between the two points and are defined by the context of our lives. The society in which we live influences that which we label light and dark; good and evil. Human beings are complex creatures motivated by a plethora of desires.
I understand these ideas to be explanations of who we are as human beings and how we relate to each other and divinity, but I struggle sometimes. There are days when I just don’t know why we, why human beings exist. I can intellectually explain to myself that humans exist so that we can gain knowledge about the nature of being and because each of us possesses a unique perspective it allows The All a greater understanding that leads to expansion and growth … but sometimes that doesn’t seem to satisfy me; that this complex yet simple explanation just isn’t enough. I require a more personal reason for existing.
When the days seem to repeat … the months become rote … one after another … and years pass by without anything really changing … I desire meaning to my life. What am I seeking to accomplish? Is there a purpose to it, whatever it may be? Do I even have a meaningful purpose or am I just here to support others as they fulfill theirs? Is my purpose altruistic in nature? And if so, is there an end to what I am meant to do?
I do not ask myself these questions to be bleak or pessimistic, as I stated in the beginning of this blog post I tend to think of myself as an optimist, but I struggle sometimes. As of late this seems to be an issue I am contemplating and in doing so it has allowed me to discard material possessions that are just taking up space, things that hold no real meaning or purpose, which has left me feeling unrestricted and unsteady. I feel contrary feelings about where I am in this moment. I am enjoying the freedom, but find it frightening as well.