My body is an ambassador of my heart; I work in unison and strive for harmony between the two. When my actions are not a pure continuum of my heart's pleas and when harmony is not cultivated, the heart becomes obsessively prominent in trying to get what it wants and never fully forgives me and never fully fits in in the new situation. It takes me by the stomach, it fills me with dread, with regret, with aching sorrow of a person who has failed his own integrity, his own high ethics of conduct. And my heart is very specific and very narrow-minded. It doesn't want to try new things, it wants what it knows it wants. I have always listened to it, sometimes sooner, sometimes later, but in the end, have always consented to what it had to say (I really have no choice; when I don't, I am miserable); I attribute great respect to my heart and my intuition. I believe that the alignment of body with heart defines one's integrity and authenticity, which are of utmost importance, especially in a world of lies and corruption, where sincerity is maybe the last rope a human can rely on to be able to walk straight.
And then, I had in front of me a fork in the road: Two ways, splitting from one. Two ways the heart did not love. Two ways the heart wanted to avoid. I felt miserable trying to maze through the speculations and apprehensions of my heart, trying to be true to myself, but couldn't find a way to do it without risking folding myself into a paralysis of pain and agony. I took the road that the heart was least scared about; because if you can't figure out what will be in the future, you can possibly rely on the present.
I feel that I am in my own human experiment. I used to know (or decide) "I am doing what is right" and then go forth on a path feeling fully confident and happy with it. It's hard to say if just by chance those past paths really were perfect for me, or if perhaps I was once better at being content with the roads at hand. Whatever it is, there was a time in life when I felt whole (with all the pain and baggage I held), and then began a time when I started walking down a path that contained hardly anything that was "just right", and everything was an estimation, a guess, an experiment, and every decision was agonizing and heavy.
And down this path, there is some disharmony between heart and body. Nope, my heart is not fully content. It's not. And I'm saying "WHY NOT?" And I don't know, and I am doing things it doesn't consent to (I know because I wake up with a knot in my stomach), and living with the frustration of not being in unison with the heart. And in that sense, I feel I have failed my integrity, my sincerity. I am experimenting ways, yes, but why am I not able to go back to a situation in which the heart knows "this is my place"?
I ask myself: Will I ever find my place again? Will I ever be whole again?
Where will this experiment take me?
Can I regain my integrity? Have I perhaps never lost it?
Can I change my view of things so at to not feel at a loss with my heart, and am I capable of abandoning all the rumination I hold of the past, all the hard feelings I hold against myself with which I ruthlessly scathe myself?
I torment myself with hard questions I can't answer. I hold a high level of ethics which I urge myself to live by. That is my way. At times it's hard, but that is the true calling in my heart. I have been deprived of sincerity in my life, and it has become my mission to cultivate it everywhere and anywhere, always.
In the photo: Three people I love