When You Wish Upon the Dark

Sometimes I look back on my old writings and think about how far I’ve come. Other times, I look back and think, “Wow, I used to be wiser.” Let me rewind a bit and explain.

Truthfully, I did not enjoy college. I wasn’t passionate about my studies, and my past disordered eating behaviors took away both my time and energy to work harder to find my path. Maybe if I was harnessing my actual potential, I could’ve come out with a little more direction, but I can’t change the past. Through the haze, there was one set of classes that always made me feel at home, that intellectually fulfilled my mind: my Honors Philosophy classes.

I remember being so cold but invested in the philosophical ideas that I would read all of my schoolwork in a warm bath tub. I would sit quietly in the back of the classroom (a transformed garage with bright orange rolling chairs) until I got the courage to burst out and join the discussion. Thankfully, I had a wonderful teacher that understood me, and I got the chance to bounce ideas off of him. I may have mentioned this in a previous post, but it was through these classes and the opportunities that came with them that I got the courage to quit a job that was only fueling my neurotic fire. In a way, this outlet in my college experience is what saved me.

Bringing it back to today, I feel like I am in an unmotivated rut. Not like a slight little dip, but a big ‘ole bahonkablooble black hole of a rut. Without rambling on for paragraphs, here is a poem I wrote last night to explain my head space.

When You Wish Upon the Dark: 4/14/19

I wish that I had wishes,

But at the same time, I wish I didn’t wish.

I keep trying to be content,

but it’s hard when I don’t like the content.

It’s hard to to shoot for the stars when you can’t see them.

It’s hard to be yourself when you don’t know you.

It’s hard.

My life’s a vicious cycle of wishes.

I seem to always circle back.

To the place where I look at the sky

And I see nothing shining back.

So this morning, I thought I would dabble into some of my old schoolwork for motivation. I am not sure what led me to do this, but I am glad that I did. I found this report on a reading about creativity from Rollo May, an American existential psychologist.

It is communion between the unconscious and conscious self that gives birth to discoveries not yet a part of the world. In this, creativity is the extension of one’s unique experience into the collective self of reality. Through creativity, the present is redefined, and the future is shaped…To truly be creative, a person must harness both their emotions and intellect and be willing to put in effort. Simply having talent is not enough. The mind has the ability to process information and make connections unconsciously only when mental pathways have been developed purposely during consciousness. Thus, to develop creativity, a person must gain awareness of their essence and use all that knowledge to interact with the world with a specialized intensity perfectly suited for their personality. Instead of stripping away the stresses of postmodern life, a person must incorporate them into their world and persevere in order to have the greatest intensity possible.

Like what? Never have I missed college until looking this over again. I miss being intellectually challenged and learning more about myself and the world. I don’t know how I’m going to go about cultivating this intensity and creativity, but I think I owe it to myself to try. Even though I tell myself I missed my chance to be something great (through losing all of my college years to anxiety), I really do still have my whole life ahead of me. I’ve got to stop telling myself that I have no talents to explore, because it’s not about talent; it’s about intention and intellectual perseverance. Maybe it’s okay that I’m not content right now? Maybe the road to greatness is paved with non-contentedness? Stay tuned.

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