Denver, Round II

Today is the fifth of August, and I'm packing my bags for a second time to travel to Denver. Part of me wants to lace up my shoes and go for a run, just to prove that superstition is purely a notion. But part of me wants to stay home, where I am "safe."

That is what the last year has been for me. This level of feeling 'safety' when I am pursuing life in a forward fashion. I'm not sure why this has suddenly become an issue. But it has.

I think the need for safety is a direct contributor to vulnerability. And by holding back, by playing it safe, we save ourselves from potential pain. And in being vulnerable, we lose one face, and often gain another. And sometimes it's a face we don't really want people to see.

A good friend of mine introduced me to the book 'Scary Close,' by Don Miller. I first thought it was going to be a book of strong impression to be more emotionally intimate with people we interact with every day. But I realise now, it's more than that. It's a book that puts words to feelings I've been harbouring for ages. Feelings that I thought only I felt. Feelings that society dismisses as too deep, and I must have too much time on my hands to even be introspective to that level. But this is a lie.

Miller states that to hide ourselves behind conforming to what is socially acceptable, is to deny true 'self' to the world. One of his quotes stands out to me:

"Remarkably, the most common regret of the dying was this: they wish they'd had the courage to live a life true to themselves and not the life others expected of them."

I guess that's where I'm at. It seems there is this expectation to always be happy, always be living the best possible life. And with as much travel and living as I've done, I feel a pressure to uphold that standard. But the reality is, that is all on the outside. I didn't post pictures of when I flew home from Aus to see my mum in the hospital. Or when I felt unsafe when on Lombok Island, being approached inappropriately by a local. Or when I cried tears of defeat when I boarded a plane in Sydney to move back to America. We only share our 'happy' moments. No one wants to hear about the bad, or the sad. That would make us "weak."

But to me, what is really "weak" is the inability to let ourselves be real. Don Miller says we are all conformists. As are result we have learned that putting on an act blinds others from the interior, and we will forever be safe. And it's true. It is safer, but it is also a lot lonelier.

And I think we are all a little lonely sometimes.

When I first came home, I was very lonely. But not because I didn't have anyone. It's because I had too many friends who are actors. I've begun eliminating surface level friendships that only touch the surface of spiritual intimacy. I've distanced myself from my friends who are experts at acting. I've narrowed in on what I want in my life, and found that I can't grow deeper with others who are hiding behind the face they choose to put on. And the truth is, I have fewer friends, but I'm less lonely now.

The pressures of establishing a career, being successful, and amounting to something are, I believe, a distraction that the devil uses. He uses them to keep us from having a deeper connection with others, and with ourselves. He uses them as distractions to occupy our mind so our spiritual journey is negatively impacted. He uses what society deems as 'good' to digress us from slowing down and taking time to be real.

I think I'll go out for a run now. The physical four walls of my house and the emotional walls of my heart are really only a false sense of safety anyway.