In my journey of self-discovery, one of my goals were to better understand my likes and dislikes. With a history of people-pleasing and going with the flow, I realised my preference was much less black and white – more fifty shades of grey. As long as it wasn’t a stark solid #000000, in which case I’d stand my ground, I was okay and happy with a lot in between.
Some might say this is a good trait.
I’d agree, to some degree. Being too picky and inflexible isn’t great.
Some may say this is a more evolved state, to be able to hold many truths at once. This all comes in use when you socialise with others and try to build community – a little give and take, comprimise is key.
But what happens when its your turn to pick where to go, what to eat, what to watch, how to spend your time…how to spend your life. I find myself wracking my brain, trying to grasp on to something, anything.
Picture the “Bombing of Poems”. 100,000 poetry bookmarks falling from the sky in Barcelona. That’s my brain when I have to make a decision. The analogy is perfect because it’s not that I’m short of ideas…but I feel overwhelmed at the volume of them, the genres, the audience, the style, is it one I’ve read before, will the others enjoy it..and the list goes on. Too many variables to take into account when all people are asking of me is, what do YOU want.
So in this pursuit of “self”, in the path in attaining an ego, I cannot help but notice the paradox. I know the reason for my way of being is not that I have attained enlightenment, far from it. But this journey of self-discovery appears, at least from the surface, to take me further from it.
I must build this identity, that we are taught to shed.
Individualising, when we are learning that we are one.
As my Zen teacher, Yodo-san, always says: No separation.
But the Buddhist in me knows, the best way is the middle path.
No extremes in either direction. All in moderation.
So maybe that’s how I will view it. That in order for me to live a life that is authentic and serves my purpose – I must first understand myself. Looking within, as a form of introspection, to uncover what is already there – than to build new. To understand other, you must first understand yourself.
That sounds much more palatable to me.
So I have spent the last four months doing just this. Removing myself from the incubator that was my hometown. Traveling on my own, figuring things out and seeing what sticks. And when there is no one asking me to join their plans, and no one to please (or displease)…guess what? I am not drawn to go out and explore.
I am not called to see the sight.
I am not called to climb the mountain.
I am not called to join the tour.
This came somewhat as a surprise to me because you’d think I’m a social person. I met with my friends often, went out for meals, was involved at the office, even enjoyed dancing the night away.
But all of these were plans initiated by others – despite me enjoying them.
In the void of others making my plans, I am drawn to stay home. To sleep. To prepare my meals and enjoy them with some YouTube. Singing along to some songs. Scrolling reels. Talking to AI about my hyperfixations.
And when I do go out, it’s because I feel I “should”. Even then, it would be to try cute cafes or bakeries to journal and read my book.
Must I always do something and go somewhere? And if I do not, does that make me a homebody?
Or am I still feeling the withdrawal of having someone plan my day for me?