Finding Joy

I have always been good at creating a upswing in my mood by engaging in specific activities. Lately I have been finding it increasingly hard to re connect to that part of myself. Today I drove through my old neighborhood. I drove the streets I used to walk with my headphones on, day dreaming of a life composed of exhilaration... the adrenaline fueling my motion. The thought occurred to me that if I could make a list of the things that used to make me happy...light my fire and inspire me, and then follow that list to the letter, whether I felt it or not that maybe I could get back to that place. Like leaving a trail of bread crumbs to follow back home through the scary woods. As I drove through the old neighborhood watching the crows pick at the grass in the passing yards and stopping to let a squirrel cross in front of me I began to feel a small flicker of inspiration. A smile could not help but turn the corners of my mouth up just a little. The circumstances that led me to dance in my living room and walk the streets of my neighborhood with headphones on for hours, to start an exercise regime in my bedroom and to write wild and bold poetic thoughts down...to organize and re organize my room to make it new, no longer exist. I don't roller skate through the cemetery at dusk anymore. I do not have to ask for permission for anything really and my wardrobe and home are my own. In a sense the freedom I so desperately longed for in those years is now my life and in a way has caused me to cease finding avenues for joy. I have nothing to work around besides my work schedule and myself. My time is my own yet I do not engage in these activities anymore... the ones that made me feel like anything was possible and that I could fly. The things that make me most myself. I have become a stranger to them. In my search for joy I have increasingly looked away from myself to things that I now see are not representative of my inner being.
The box of dark chocolate covered caramel chews and the pack of camels at my beckoning only serve to temporarily comfort as I drive and cry listening to the soundtrack of a life I could not have imagined would belong to me. Difficulties and complexities that now live on my face and in the green around the rims of my eyes have diverted me from the path that would have been. The choices I have made were based on too much thought and did not emanate from my core. They have chained me to a giant pillar of cause and effect that slows my stride and creates too many questions.
Finally a fury to write... a need to be nearer to her. The she that is buried and hidden under the boxes of years and lessons. Getting back to her may just be that simple... to find her using the language we both speak. Practicing to become fluent again. Nothing worth doing or having comes very easy in my experience. What once came to me like a quick bolt or breath of air, I took for granted. I let go of the thread and it has gotten tangled in the mess of other threads and ropes and strings. The work of untangling takes patience and time. Two things I have never felt ease with but that I now know will be two of the best gifts I can give myself. I know persevernce well...it is time to make friends with it again and get myself home.
AL