10 day countdown. Then it’s her birthday, and I won’t be able to be there. I’m not sure yet how hard that will hit me, and how I will react, how I will perceive the world, how I will treat my environment. Will it be like the week of my birthday/father’s day?
Or did I learn?
Did I harden? Do I know now what to expect, and prepare psychologically? I talked to Danny yesterday, he wanted to go shoe shopping (we both need to do something weird), but he wanted to go on the 20th and I said “rather not”. Because I don’t know how I’ll be that day. Could be that a weird excursion to Cayambe to buy new shoes (my old ones are worn out and not improvable) would be just the right thing.
Or the total contrary.
Maybe I’ll want to bury myself in stupid movies, junk food, beer and other miserie. I hope not. This will be her first birthday that I miss. I somehow always managed to be there, despite the stones that the mother threw my way. The stories I could tell…
But I won’t.
It would take too much time and doesn’t make much sense. I should, however, write them down. They make for a great script on Latin American tele-novelas. I could make millions. Mainly because a lot of times it seems like the mother is making her moves based on the telenovelas that she watches. It has a scary influence on many people. Maybe it’s not as much fiction as I liked to believe – maybe that’s the reality for many people here.
But that’s not important right now.
I had a great talk with my… what would that be… host sister? I lived with the family for a year when doing my university exchange here. They’re still very dear to my heart. We talked about our experiences, and as always, it’s such a great way to mirror myself, comparing my actions with those of her ex-boyfriend and father of her child. Put myself under the microscope of coherence.
How true am I?
Not perfect by any means, I can always see a little of myself in the behavior of those exes. Naturally, the first reaction is an internal justification, but I got that quite under control by now. I could do better, and I seek to do better. Justifications won’t help in that, so I have to wipe them of like mist of that mirror.
It’s not fun.
It kind of hurts each time. Facing oneself is not pleasant, especially in the beginning. But with each round, it turns more into a pleasureful pain. Recognizing your self in the mirror, your true self, is alleviating. To not be hiding from it. Accepting it, embracing it, starting to see it as a project that will take a long time and a lot of energy. Something that per definition is not perfect, far from it. That has to be flawful.
A neverending project.
Probabilities are that you won’t become enlightened in this life. No buddha title for you. You’ll find incoherences in yourself each day of your life. Then each month. Then each year. It might slow down, but the deeper you dig, the more you will find. Maybe even a Balrog. Something you never expected, something that pushes you to the verge of existence.
The flaw that sets you free.
If you can work through that, the grey turns white. I don’t know my Balrog yet. Maybe it’s everything that Lily’s mom triggers in me, this whole situation. Then I’ll beat it by staying true to myself, my principles and values, my ethics. My code, as good old Dexter would say. Stick to it. Coherence. Coherence. Coherence.
If you’d like to reflect on that and write a comment, I’d be thrilled to read and curate. Even better if it turns into a post – but tag me, please. Anything that passes the AI check, of course.
Pictures taken with a Motorola Edge 60 Pro, I reserve the copyright - but feel free to ask if you want to use one of the pictures!
