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Heart= a passion for an activity, motivation to do so beyond all cost

May 23, 2014

Just because others do not share your belief, and seek knowledge merely for some unknown reason intended for reasons supposed negative, doesn’t mean that they themselves claim that knowledge. You can still pursue kindly.

If others put structure over content, then put as much structure required. And add content.

 

Don’t let the past bear down on you. Doesn’t matter.

 

All my life, I’ve been scared to start. When I was a kid, I’d be afraid to roll until I committed the act, then I did it with fluid accuracy over and over again until I was excellent and I loved every minute of it. When stepping into cold water,  I would worry at the edge, until I entered and spent hours testing my limits within the pool, and later refusing to step out for any reason but an approaching storm.

But that is a cycle that follows me to adulthood. It seems that I am petrified by uncertainty. But I feel it dives deeper than that, and it is a mental spasm, or flaw, that curses me worst than any of my noticable, acceptable flaws.

Lets disciper the reasoning for this. When I experience this emotion, which is more habit, the tension of muscles, the collapse of my instinctive warning. It isn’t a thing of modern mental achievement. Primal, it lurks within the codes of what it means to be me. Even now, as I attempt to explain, the feeling unravels its coils within me, uncomfortable in every way.

It is a crude thing, the shudder that keeps me from testing my limits with joy, the private worry I refuse to show to my environment. Is this true fear? The pure kind that moved ancestors? It’s dense, unlike normal anxiety.

So, if this impulse that guards against all other impulses is a factor that contributes to my introverted nature, then it seems this factor runs clean and sharp to the soul.

But, in fact, with all glamor I know to be on the other side, it causes all of my misery.

But I will not give in. In doing so, I will have to face all the high members around me with total confidence. I will have to expose my intricate design to others, and be totally at ease with it.

Perhaps I do not trust the ones I wish to share my ideas with, maybe, somewhere inside me, I wish to hate others. That feels wrong to admit an hidden douse of disgust within my happy nature.

Or, as learned valuably while in a theater lessons, You must be vulnerable  and strong.

 

Of course I have discovered with meditation that I must search deeper to locate my sensitive side, and work with that. But once open, pain and hurt seeps around me. I don’t know where to turn at the moment.

Unless I take the reign and construct myself once again, I will develop and craft myself to be a better person furthermore.

I may have to be more impulsive. Develop a method of when to think and when to just act. Therefore, I will enter a period of my life to praise my extroverted side until my habits reverse, then with subtlety I will turn back to my dear thoughts.

With that I must stop writing for now.

 

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