points of divergence

I keep playing around with “This is it, baby” in my head. I’ve come to: What if this IS the monastic life I’ve wanted to live?

I keep grieving. I think about the points of alternate universe divergences—not because I’m being wishful or lamenting, necessarily. The pandemic puts my life under a microscope at times, in which I ask myself: what are all the choices that I didn’t make, that need to be grieved? What would have happened if I never moved back south? What if I stayed with my ex? What if I stayed at the agency? What if I were more aware in a very particular moment I shared with someone? What if I never reached out? What if I said more, or said less?

I see the divergences, I see the paths, I see where they split off and keep going going going. Like estuaries, like plant roots, like my body’s nervous system. I see where I could have died. All occurring, layers upon 4th dimensional layers. And yet: here I am.

And, so: What if this is the monastic life that a past self (within this life) hoped for? You know, what if I’m never going to fall in love (the way I’ve been conditioned to believe what love is) again? That used to feel crushing. But now I just feel an open space in that statement. What if this is the dream home? Where can I see through it all so that I can keep going.

It’s wild to watch my friends have self-doubt. In this matrix? Like homie, you are the last person in the world who should second-guess yourself. There are billionaires out there making the most unethical decisions for the rest of us with utter confidence and complete disregard, and you’re wondering if you should switch your career or break up with somebody?

Please. We can do no wrong at this point, so long as we are connected to our hearts. Truly. Nothing is cringe. While it still doesn’t take away from experiencing intense emotions, emotions are temporary.

Anyway! Blogger, out.