Conversations with...

Conversations with... Part 19 - Return to the Source

Return to the Source

G - "Go ahead."

A - "I need help.

I relinquish trust and control to the source - be it God, the Universe, the Akashic Record, my Daemon, whomever and whatever can guide me.

I want to believe this will work out. I know it can. But I don't think I have what I need, or perhaps more accurately, I do not know how to tap that reservoir of knowledge, talent, composure, that part of me that has always been elusive.

As time flies by I become more and more painfully aware of the irretrievable lost opportunities - opportunities with my wife, my children, my extended family, friends I once had and the few I have left.

I don't know what is wrong with me. And I certainly have yet to fix it.

But I want to. But I need help.

If I were to speculate, I am seemingly trying to do the right thing.

I am not designed for business. Not the way I was doing it before.

I am an artist. A writer. A musician. Maybe even a scientist. I am surely a philosopher. An intellectual? A polymath? I am a father. And a very good one. I want to be a great husband, but have failed miserably so far.

Yet she still loves me.

I am so smart I know I have yet to tap into my full potential.

I am so talented yet I can't seem to produce anything of merit.

I am so frustrated that I think that death is the answer.

How can I write of these traits, these positive, amazing, wonderful traits, yet I can't find a way to make a living?

Am I full of it?

Am I talented, smart, a good father? Do I want to be a great husband? Or, like one of my characters asked similarly about homeless people, do I prefer to suffer, to doubt myself, to have no success, no money, to be indebted, running from creditors, without an income?

I like to think it otherwise. But history denies that claim.

I know that I've never known happiness.

I've never felt safe or secure.

Not in my childhood home.

Not at any job.

Not in any of the places I've lived with my wife.

Even she, who still loves me despite me, can't earn my trust.

Oh, I do trust her. But am I a bad husband because I need her to leave me eventually.

Do I need to drive her away so that I can die alone?

I know the answer is yes.

Because what I fear more than anything is losing what little control of my life I possess. So rather than work hard to create a stable, secure, happy environment, I drive all that is good in my life away so that I don't have to worry about losing what I treasure due to forces outside of my influence.

I had something when I was very young, something I suspect was akin to happiness. But it was taken away before I had learned to talk.

So, I don't remember it being present.

I only remember watching other people seemingly enjoying life while I could not.

And I sought to replace that, desperately. Even though I couldn't identify it, I tried to find a source of it outside my childhood home.