Journal, Writing

The past few weeks have not been eventful in the sense that physical events took place that shifted a lot of where I am and how I think, but they have been incredibly eventful with regards to more self actualizations — whatever that means. I’m not sure how I can describe those as events, but they are reflections, thoughts, conversations and then conclusions.

It’s scary when you are teaching yourself how to be okay again, because in theory you may forget self development or dismiss rectifying your own mistake at the cost of denigrating your heart into the depths of self doubt and shame and despondency again. It is like a thin rope you hold across your actions and judgments, whereby you wish to be wise but also to not let your body be stepped upon as it used to be. I don’t know what this thin line is to be honest… I am simply struggling with that balance.

My mind, so far, has weaned towards upholding my nascent love of self slithered with some swirls of sugar and pride. Perhaps somewhere, I am also just tired of the expansive self research it takes to fix a thing in the first place. I think I’m doing okay. I don’t know. I cannot be too sure, and it does not feel comfortable to let myself feel secure with the idea that I’ve reached self actualization… conversation is ongoing and I wish to continue to reflect until I am satisfied with my own autonomy.

Ah, yes. I wish I had a lot of that… I reckon I will achieve it quite soon with the mercy and grace of Allah.

Not sure why I used reckon back there… I’m not British, just in case you were wondering.

But mistakes are real anyways, and I suppose me engrossing myself in the understanding that I may continue to dabble in the mud of wrong only to climb out in tears that I wish to repent is a good sign, one that perhaps signifies a heart that wishes to elevate — out of this planet and into the skies that I see waving at me with way too much serenity. I glare at the skies too often these days, most of them wishing I was up with the stars hanging out amongst the clouds, carefree and light. But to all is a wisely decided and undoubtedly written end. Timely and precise. I shall go up when I shall.

For now, I think I’ll be okay.

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