Down in the Well

by HelluvaGirl

I comb my mind, looking for the manifestations of lethal attachments having consumed me entirely, and I let everything go, breathing it out.

I give myself lengthy lectures on my personal wishes being secondary, whilst the destined course of events, the divine plan primary and definitely not something to try and eliminate with a sack of explosives when the head fails to break the wall.

The destined things come easy, I remind myself.

I will accept any ordeal, any challenge, any trial. I know I have invited them all to my life. I will thank for them and fill myself with joy because I will see again there are no things on earth to break me.

I acknowledge my wishes but I don’t consider them superior to reality which has been persistently denying them, like a useless credit card. Now that must have been telling me something for quite a while.

I can’t lose focus, though the withdrawal is overwhelming sometimes. But if I don’t cure the cause, I will regularly suffer the effect. And I realise now that I have never fully seen the cause to tackle it in the first place. Wrong priorities…

Though frankly, I can’t eradicate a deep-seated conviction that makes me shamefully bargain with fate: if I straighten myself out now, perhaps I will deserve to get what I really want… later.

There I slip.

It’s all about the purpose.

/…/ for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Matthew 6:21.

I gotta focus on my purpose. Everyone and everything here, including me, is so fragile and temporary that I really must notice the absurd of lingering on it that much.

Despite the fact that rearranging the mindset is painful, someone said today I was shining.

The darker it gets…