Getting Over Myself

sketch by john bolland

Book in Hand: Extraordinary Origins of Everyday Things by Charles Panati
Song in Mind: ** it's nice to remember, december**

Oh, didn't I just sound as the most self-centered, narrow-minded, obliquous doofus during my last entry? I was just really angry. Mostly at myself.

But you know what's new? I refuse to say sorry about it. I needed the fire of anger and self-loathing to purify the desire fueling it. It's a process - - one where taking shortcuts will never harvest the effective results. Life's a process. I guess we all have those days when we're just so *pundido* and the light just keps flashing on and off - - sane, insane, reasonable, outrageous. The thing is, the important thing is, to get over it. Which almost always means getting over yourself and getting on with life. Well, let's just say, I'm over it.

I'm not promising the world a full-fledge overhaul to the Olivia it knows. I'm just proposing little changes which I think will help me get to that place I've always known I could reach. I was just too damned lazy to pursue it. That's not my blogging piece today though. I'd rather not jinx it by talking about it.

It's interesting to note that my post-holidays depression hasn't gone full-blown. It was nipped at the bud and I hope it would not resurrect itself anytime soon. I've been taking pretty good medicine for it... which funny enough is praying the Holy Rosary on my way to work. Oh yes, I have always avoided it, thinking it was too repetitive almost rendering it a meaningless tradition. But now I realize that actually praying it takes some concentration. It's almost like meditation. And the prayers you say over and over is like a chant that helps you center yourself.

That's what wholeness is about anyway, isn't it? Centering yourself? To position the density of your soul at the right place so that the peripherals will gravitate into the ideal order. Our heart, our thoughts, our limbs - - those are all peripherals. While the center of our soul is that point where the warm ooze of joy, the little earthquakes, the wrenching and the unsundering radiates from. The gods we pray to (for me it's the God I worship, the Virgin I revere, the Saints I turn to, the Angels I believe in) are original versions of that core of the soul. And the most amazing thing that remains is it's all there inside us. A seed left by the Creator for us to cultivate, to nurture, and evetually, to reap.

Oh well, it doesn't matter what i think. Probably half the people who started to read this blog lost interest after reading the words holy and rosary, anyway. I know because sometimes, I do. But I wouldn't mention things I didn't believe, so please understand my lack of levity.

These are the things I know as true.