Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Regrets, time, and my damn animus

Where do regrets live?  Life is not a dress rehearsal and words can't be taken back.  Each day is a lesson, yada, yada.  There was a time when I thought I could live my life without regrets.  I thought that to act in error was better to never act at all.  I feel like I've lived a balance of not taking enough risks and taking too many risks without knowing what I was doing.

I guess every life is a blind thrashing through stormy waters, alone in the darkness.

I sacrificed a lot to follow my dreams.  I'm seeking creativity as an ideal and hoping to help people in the process.  I'm still in the trenches, ready to help those who don't have a voice.

Yet, I'm going gray.  The price of Saturn, Father Time, is hefty.  I'll be turning 35 this year.  I was 8 months old when my mother turned 35.  She won't see her grandchildren if there are any.  Maybe I'm getting too old and just have to accept that I won't get to have a career and children.  Maybe I made too wayward choices in the love department for that.  There's nothing I can do about that at this point.  I just have to note that every now and then, a couple times a year, my biological clock cries out in desperation.  I think I could be a good mom.  Maybe I'll be able to nurture maternalistically in other ways instead.  There are many paths to one's life work and legacy.

I'm still facing fears with eyes open, face on.  Still trying to make sense of everything.  I know deep inside that I'm more aligned with my life's purpose than ever before.  Several times this week I've been weepy with tender vulnerability and trust in this process of development.

I can't stop listening to this song. 

My animus speaks through songs, a fluttering of emotions, energy, and hormones.  Why is it that I still have a complex constellated around a partnership that wouldn't let me down?  You would think I would know better and be over it by now.  I fear it is this compulsion that has led me into authoritarian, controlling, manipulative pacts with people criticizing me and minimizing me.  I don't always want to sing and dance alone.  I won't give up on conjunctio.  I have faith and hope that agape is possible.

Ugh, so frustrating. 


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