I have been thinking and writing a lot about authenticity and how I am trying to define what that means to me. How I can live a life that is authentic to/for me. In rebuilding, or rather building, myself from the ground up acknowledging if I am building with warped wood, beautiful black walnut, masonite, or twigs. All are fine and can be incorporated into a rich, full, and authentic life. But only if you call a twig a twig, or a spade a spade.
So much of this involves me working for a brutal honesty with myself. A transparency in which the struggle to find is akin to asking 45 to release his tax returns. It is so hard as deluding oneself is the EASIEST thing to do. As I play through interactions and situations that worry me I realize how much I still push for extremes and I wonder if extremes is my new nemesis. If I push to an extreme and don't live in those beautiful, subtle, glorious, and scary grays I have a yes or a no. And often what I want is neither. But that is the numbing effect. That is the alcohol effect, my version of the butterfly effect.
It is interesting to realize I can be dry but not sober. That is what I was last weekend/early this week and I felt strange and alien in my body. I still do to a degree. I knee jerk. I become the kids book version of you give a mouse a cookie he asks for a glass of milk. Except I question why why why why why? What? Who? Left? Right? UP? Down? Side to Side? Mirrored? Shaken? Stirred? I am unsure of how to deal with getting back to me except to go to meetings and sleep. And hold myself back. (In the way of grandiose statements of whatever variety)I also realize that when I have been pulling humor or ridiculous situations into my blogs it is a conscious act of deferral. This is what I need to be thinking/writing about but not until I am ready to. Today I was.
So no funny jokes today. Just me sitting in a coffee shop getting ready to make website magic happen.