S is for Self-Awareness

500 Words On….Self-Awareness.

I wonder, sometimes, if there is a bottom – or, maybe, a core –  to me, or anyone. That might be more apt.

I keep reaching more deeply into myself, unraveling the mystery threads that have been woven into the fabric of my life and my psyche.

And, the further and deeper I go, the more I find, and the deeper the depths I sense, stretching into places so deep that they  seem as though they  aren’t within me, but instead are the stuff of the universe….the echoes, maybe, of the star stuff that makes up everything in our world.

I like thinking that I am made of star stuff, that we are all universal and interwoven with each other.

Or, as my friend Tanya said today, there is even a certain harmony in our disharmonies, in the times and ways that we simply cannot get along with one another.

I am always what I live, in one sense or another, and I change according to what I experience in every moment, and how I process those happenings.

And yet, self-awareness tends to be seen as something people have, in the same way that some people think that happiness and peace are commodities.

The more deeply I go, learning myself, the more certain I am that I will never get to the deepest parts of me, because, as I learn myself, I am still living and growing and changing.

I am always changing – even when it seems that everything in my life is static and unchanging…..in those time, when I drift or rush through my life in a kind of trance of unfeeling or to-do lists and obligations and schedules.

I think that, in those times, I am building  a thicker and thicker shell around myself, and reducing the amount of space  my soul  exists in.

When I  live this way for too long, maybe it becomes nearly impossible for anyone – even me – to find a way though it to the flow of life and self that is still there, somewhere, deep inside, choked and nearly rescued to a trickle…..

We are all interwoven, and a choked-off flow in any of us affects us all.

If the choked off places are within me, I can move along the threads until I find the place that is twisted and tangled, and begin, carefully and tenderly, to learn the shape and contours of the knot, to test the strength of the thread, and to figure out whether to weave back through the flawed place, eventually setting it to rights; whether it would be better to cut the offending place out, and repair the rupture with a patch I may weave more tightly over time; or whether there is nothing to be done but to live with a snag in my soul, because, at least for now, there is nothing else I can do, but to be aware of it and wary of causing it further danger.

What do you do about the snags in your own soul? Are you aware of them? Have you effected repairs? If so, how well did it work, or is it an ongoing process?

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