Ego: Or So They Say (Part 1)

I pride myself on my honesty and my capacity to acknowledge my flaws. I also recognize the possibility for beauty to manifest itself by moving through the cracks of an imperfect veneer. And though in most cases I think that we have very little say in which lessons life lays out for us to learn, I am a huge advocate of the notion that one cannot move forward without taking inventory of where he's been; otherwise repetition becomes the norm and evolution becomes stunted. Or so they say.

I've been re-reading "A New Earth", Re-investing in understanding what brought on my disquiet, and analyzing exactly what it was that I did wrong. (While being cognizant that the concept of wrong is merely a perspective on an ideological position) This is what I've come up with:

The last time I read "A New Earth" I was struggling with my constructs of the external world; trying to lessen my need to fragment and judge institutions of Love, Marriage, Religion, and Romantic Relationships, so that my mental picture did not dominate the overall collage (That when seen as a whole is complex, layered, and ultimately a unitary image of one idea). And it changed me. Gave me the opportunity to step back, relax, and breathe into the moment without fearing that the converging differences would somehow diminish who I was. I was strengthened in who I was and yet made gentler on the world around me. For those of you who have read "A New Earth" you may have already caught the trap that I fell into. "I was strengthened in who I was"

I found a Beautiful Man who loved me for exactly who I was, I became increasingly at ease with my personally integrity, and more a more comfortable with sharing realities with those with a different world view; and because all was "in the moment" I found that a choice that had no linear consequence could not deny me access to alternate futures. I was safe. I didn't have to fight so hard. I became confident that I would continue to exist, that I would still be heard, and that I would still find love; even if it was called by a different name. I let it go. Knowing that however you chose to define the world had no bearing on me. And we could still share the moment. We could be we, while I was still completely me. But now what? What about this now? What about today? Alone again and aware that I have no idea where each date will lead, and with only the subtle understanding that the last year of "momentous" living left me here. . . searching for connection again. What is the same? What baggage remains tied to my thigh leaving me unable to leap freely into the next love story?

Answer:

I am still obsessed with form. I am still caught up in the presentation of an ideal; MY ideal. ME. The construction of my personal identity has become impenetrable diamond; beautiful, sparkling, and unbreakable. Yet still not real; a perfectly designed illusion of self . . . but in all actuality just a construction of the Ego. Or so they say. . .