The soul is naive. It wants what it wants.

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Sep 4, '06 10:29 PM
for everyone

For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man's spirit within him? -1Cor2:11

Several weeks ago, I wrote what was supposedly a blog entry. I must have been interrupted, or decided yet again it was it was too soul-baring, or simply lost interest that I never finished the draft. Anyway, this is an excerpt of what I wrote then:

"All I know is that it's just like me to run away and hide. From anything, anywhere, anyone. It's not a convenient habit and more often than not, my tendency to flee is a cause for much self-loathing, a finger pointed at myself for not being brave enough to be exactly where I should be. But always, in retrospect, the times that I ran and hid have allowed me to face that which I cannot hide from: my heart and its bottomless secrets."

I read it again and realized, no other paragraph honestly describes myself. Or at least the ME that I know and am beginning to really understand.

I mean, the real me, according to me. Not the gregarious, witty girl that spews off jokes one after the other, the kind friends and acquaintances see. Not the self-effacing, multi-tasking employee. Not the nurturer girlfriend. Not the girl who tries to do too many things at the same time. I realize people know me bits and pieces, because we play different roles, we put on different masks. What I am to one, may be completely different from what I am to another. But at the end of the day, all I really have is the girl that stares back at me in the mirror.

Really, I've been trying not to run away anymore. My life, at least for the past year or so, is a shambles of long-overdue decisions, but at least they were decisions that I MADE. It's not comfortable. After all, the most beautiful things require the most painful of birthing.

Sometimes I reckon I will still hide. Wouldn't it be yet another form of escapism not to recognize that it is what I do best?

For everytime I run away, I run after myself. And when I find "me" again, oh, the stories she has to tell...

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9 CommentsChronological Reverse Threaded

angielay wrote on Sep 5, '06

i think this (not really telling who you are), is just as liberating!

"I realize people know me bits and pieces, because we play different roles, we put on different masks. What I am to one, may be completely different from what I am to another. But at the end of the day, all I really have is the girl that stares back at me in the mirror.".............I agree...:D

duesouth wrote on Sep 5, '06

finding the you that you lost, pai, is a beautfiul thing.

sporophyte wrote on Sep 5, '06

paia said

the most beautiful things require the most painful of birthing.

And that's a beautiful thing to realize. :) Thank you for sharing.

bluhevn wrote on Sep 5, '06

Hmmm... It's 1Corinthians that's giving off strong vibes for both of us... True, Pai, the only two beings who really know you are you and God. But in my experience He is the one who truly gives identity. Without Him, there is no sense of the truth of who we really are. Your'e right not to run, and I tell you, the longer you journey with Him, the greater you will know yourself.

paia wrote on Sep 6, '06

bluhevn said

Your'e right not to run

Sometimes it's the only way there is pud.

duesouth wrote on Sep 6, '06

pai, i'm giving a talk to a bunch of psychology students in a few weeks. can i share the entry?

paia wrote on Sep 7, '06

hm? why? well, as long as the talk isn't called "Self-Analysis and Crappy Blog Writing"...

duesouth wrote on Sep 7, '06

hehehe! it's about boundaries.

tanyadyosa wrote on Jan 25, '07

hi paia! m glad i found your entry. It hits home.

Especially, " I realize people know me bits and pieces, because we play different roles, we put on different masks. What I am to one, may be completely different from what I am to another. But at the end of the day, all I really have is the girl that stares back at me in the mirror"

and by the time I realize that, Ive ran out of words to describe who I really am. Im taking your cue.Lets find "Me".

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paia

The soul is naive. It wants what it wants.

Farrah