Chew On This

Striving for balance seems to be an ongoing quest. What I mean is that, at least in my short experience, finding a calm place within oneself while staying motivated and stimulated is something of a slippery slope, but as long as one accepts the perpetuity of it, some kind of peace may be established. I find myself feeling good, peaceful, balanced, and thinking, "I don't want to screw with this." It's tempting to stay in a my little happy place, but I can't be afraid to move forward out of fear of tampering with perceived zen. I think I need to find a comfortable pace and create a solid home base so that I may travel through life knowing that I have something safe to return to while still taking risks.

I believe that I've been a little trapped by jumping to conclusions and viewing things in absolutes. Pushing past that, or at least trying to, has been exciting thus far, as has sharing this experience and voicing these ideas. Even if it has been obvious to many people for a long time, it's grounding to remind each other that this is a shared experience. Looking around the subway in Queens, the most diverse place on the planet, it's comforting yet confounding to find commonality with strangers who may appear to share nothing with me. But we're sharing a space, showing each other respect, participating in humanity.

Oneness in nature is easier to recognize than it is amongst people: the overlapping of tree branches, the soft green tide of leaves of grass pushed by the wind, the shared, brief blossom of magnolia trees. They all know when to act together; we are slightly more resistant. I try to focus on the patterns of nature, outside and within myself, before I allow myself to be tripped up by my thoughts again. Thinking, rethinking, analyzing, distorting- it's an alluring trap, but as I push my way through the tangled bakery string of neurosis and allow myself to fall into the rhythm of openness to the unknown, I approach calm.