The Cycle of Rebirth

Sitting outside still navigating the path of my heart, an old friend reappears in my mind, right when I'm trying to write but failing miserably:

C: What are you trying to do?

S: I'm...well, I had an answer for you, but I caught it. That was weird.

C: Want to know what I think?

S: Of course.

C: I think you're still trying to spin the experience. You want to recover a loss by creating something from it.

S: Maybe.

C: You can't force it, though. I feel like you're trying to force things right now.

S: I don't know about that. It's a little different. What you just said sounds...mental...cerebral....

C: Heady.

S: Yeah, I think that's better. There's stuff inside me right now and it almost feels like it needs to be cut out.

C: Or maybe...

S: What?

C: Have you considered the possibility that you don't feel anything about this latest change?

Pause. The fountain trickles and people silently exist in the distance.

S: Do you think...it's possible for me to feel nothing about it? I was debating with co-workers over our stupid advertising campaign yesterday. What do I really care about our ads? I think I was just choosing an obvious side for the sake of argument. I think I just feel too much sometimes.

C: Maybe you just feel...differently about this one thing than you expected to. I know you're very sensitive about transitions.

S: So how do I feel about this? You, as a direct connection about my subconscious, should know.

C: You know I hate it when you tag me like that. This works so much better when we can just talk without defining our roles in your brain.

S: Right. Sorry.

Pause. Thought.

C: You really want to know what I think?

S: Sure.

C: I think you're a searcher. Most artists are.

S: Meaning?

C: It would be too easy for me to say that you feel let down by people, especially people whom you're invested in. You tend to search for moments of truth, like looking for food with a specific flavor, and when you come across something surprisingly bland or predictable, it actually leaves a bitter taste in your mind. You're left wondering if it's an acquired taste or it just tastes like shit, after which you get frustrated with the honesty of the whole situation and whether or not you wasted your time. As you let that linger, you start searching for whatever you think is now missing as a result.

S: That's an interesting theory.

C: You asked....

S: It's a bit of a bohemian approach to relating to people, isn't it? I starve myself to filter out the things that are false? Is that how that works?

C: No, not at all. I think you're perfectly normal to sit out here and seek advice from an imaginary person.

S: That's convenient, how you can point this stuff out and I can't.

C: It's about context, my friend. So what do you do with all this now?

S: Just walk away. Rise above. Grow again.

People come into your lives because there is something in us that is ready for them at that time, ready for the lessons they have to teach us. Sometimes they're a test for the mistakes we've made in the past, and sometimes they're a warning about the future. Either way, each person is priceless, like the raindrops that reflect the world around us for the few seconds before they fall on our shoulders.

Just walk away. Rise above. Grow again.