Voids We Avoid We Owe It To Ourselves To Visit

When motion and movement halt abruptly you're left with a lot of space.  A lot of empty space, and empty space demands to be filled.  It's an actual law of physics I think, but I can't be certain, or remember which one.  It doesn't matter.  What matters is the stall, the disruption to forward progress.  Like the stall I'm in.  The one without growth or action.

With my usual distractions gone and Life's usual interruptions on hold, all I have to fill the voids that appear are the things I try hardest to avoid.  Things like ruthless self-reflection, or naming what I'm ashamed of, or the expanse of my guilt, or my desperate denial of all I regret.  Things that motivate me to stay busy and keep moving.  Things that demand distractions.  

Time stacks up when distractions are removed until you're face to face with everything you've avoided. We avoid what we avoid until we can't anymore and we're forced to make a decision.  Do we manufacture a new batch of distractions to engage in or do we surrender to the truth and confront our demons?  I'm talking transformational truth. Cathartic truth.  Hard truth.  Like admitting you let someone down.   Or acknowledging what you regret.  Or exposing the guilt you carry.  Truth that has the potential to destroy you if spoken without humility.  Truth that decimates the Ego and leaves you completely exposed to the world.  The kind of truth that needs to be spoken for growth to occur.

The unspoken truths in me are buried in the deepest of my depths.  Way, way the fuck down there.  I've avoided them on purpose because I'm afraid of them.  I'm afraid of the pain they cause when I think of them.  I'm afraid of who I might be if they're gone. I'm afraid to have my heart broken one more time, again.  I don't know if I could survive that.  

The things we leave unspoken are the things that have the capacity to destroy the person speaking them.  They also have, in equal measure, the capacity to heal those they're spoken to, and this is the big conundrum.

Is my psychological comfort more important than the contribution I can bring to another person's healing?  And no, it doesn't depend on who the person is.  It's an absolute equation.  

Do I have an obligation to repair what I know I've damaged, or is damaging people just one of the many accepted, universal conditions of life?  

Am I required to accept responsibilty for the pain I've caused others if no one has acknowledged the pain they caused me?  I don't know the answers to big things like these.  And at the same time, I do.

Those are big questions about profound philosophical issues that I don't have insightful answers for.  Those are questions I'm not qualified to offer an opinion on.  Those questions are too big for an average, ordinary guy like me so I ask myself a different one.

I ask if I can I be, or become, the person I aspire to be if I don't acknowledge the mistakes I made, or the pain my mistakes have caused?

I can't, so I have a choice to make and that choice will become the impetus that animates the way I live my life.  I can choose self-preservation and protect the viscera by living an armored, cautious life. Or I can expose myself through sacrificial transparency and let the Universe decide who and what it needs to preserve. I can let go and trust the Universe to maintain the continuum of balance and order we depend on. I know which choice I aspire to, and I know why I'll never be able to make it.

A choice like thatis tough for anyone to make and it's a tough choice by design.  It's so tough, in fact, you're awarded points if you leave the answer blank but had the courage to ask the question.  It's like the SAT exam where you get five points for writing your name in the box even though you left everything else empty.  

I did what most people do on this one.  I avoided choosing one over the other and moved inbetween them, instead.  I chose selfishly sometimes and sometimes I was altruistic.  I didn't have the strength or courage to commit to the choice I wanted to make. I wasn't too hard on myself for my wavering, either.  I cut me some slack because I know of only four people who chose what I would have but couldn't.  And all four were truly transcendent, where as, I'm not.  The four?  Dr. Martin Luther King.  Jesus H. Christ.  Gandhi. And Mother Fuckin Theresa.  That's it.  That's a very, very exclusive club.  Even for a smart dude like me.