I had the fortune of spending an evening with some good friends over the weekend. There was no plan aside from spending time together. What resulted was having a few drinks, great conversation and a light supper – all of which are greatly enhanced by those who spend that time with you. In any form of remote familiarity with how I conduct myself, I believe it’s quite apparent that I love conversations, as the intensity of a conversation grows, I tend to grow, thus I find myself thriving off of them.  When it comes to the majority of my beliefs, I’ve learned to not put them out on the table, lest they be attacked, so I typically take a stance and stick with it, aside from what my beliefs may be. This was not the case this last weekend, whatsoever. I stuck my neck out, I had some ideas challenged, and I’ll be left pondering for weeks, months, years to come, I’m certain. 

The most powerful thing within this realm of conversation, where I invest something that is dear to me – I thoroughly enjoy having it challenged. Why shouldn’t I? I tend to do it with everyone I encounter. How could I not expect the same in return? I often come across people who do agree with me, without the intention of sounding arrogant. I know that I am often assertive, and whether the agreement is an avoidance of conflict, I’m not sure. Perhaps I can pose an argument that for the moment makes the most sense to someone, causing agreement. There’s truly no way to be certain. What I do know, is that when I am challenged, and I guess some may say “bested” it’s by far the most important aspect to a conversation for me. I’m pushed a step or two further in my thinking.

I am delighted that I have such a variety of friends who are in my life. If only to continue to contribute story after story after story – and in conversation give me yet another perspective to consider. For those who can show me an argument to my belief that I may agree with, they are something to be treasured. 

Being vulnerable and letting it out is interesting. WIth some of the things that I’m currently feeling, I’d imagine that it’s stuff that would cause alarm in most, which is what keeps me from writing about it in any public way. Precursor to the rest: don’t be alarmed.  Beyond all things I know that there’s always hope, there’s always a time that it will get better, and chances are that will come sooner than one might imagine. I rarely find myself hopeless, and when I do, I’m typically surrounded by the love of those around me, so truly, no need to worry. To not process through the thoughts, emotions and nature of my current state, would be to slight myself, so I will do so with the utmost consideration to those who will be reading it, and definitely with more to myself who is feeling it all out. Essentially there’s a calm, quiet, yet somehow tumultuous thought process going about my existence. The thoughts running through my head are poetic, yet troublesome (not that they are mutually exclusive). There’s this one part of me that has a strong desire to lay in bed in fetal position, if only for the comfort of it – yet there’s a side of me that screams of doing something productive. I want nothing more than to spill my guts, but no words can possibly be expelled when my mouth opens. It can perhaps be compared to being hungry, with no desire to eat, or tired, with no ability to sleep. I’m feeling, and no way to express it. At least not acutely. 

There’s something isolating about my train of thought. There’s no possible way that I can be the only one to feel this way, and there are those times in which you feel you’re the only one to be/say/do something thus inspiring an extensive feeling of loneliness. Yet this is somehow different. My thoughts simply take me elsewhere. Taking a walk tonight allowed me to sort through a few things. Sitting at home tonight allowed for a couple of others. Taking a nap today gave me a break from becoming overwhelmed. I’m alright with this happening once in a while. I’m alright with every aspect of it, actually. The simple act of thought, however, can cause the beauty of this world to torment me. Seems ironic. So, I allow it for a bit, and for a little bit I’ll get caught back up in the actions of my daily life, and then at some point – I’ll feel it all in some way, and that will give me something to hold on to until that next swing to the next monkey bar where I’m just ever-so-slightly afraid of falling for those few instants. 

I don’t necessarily need respite, and true to what I know of myself, I don’t really know what I need. If only to expound on what’s going on about me for these few moments, I believe that is enough.