Sometimes there are stressors in life that I think are necessary, but it may turn out that they are legitimate fears that my subconscious is reluctant to let go of.
I have faced abandonment so many times in my life, you might think I would get used to dealing with it.
After all it is not ever the end all I think it is when it happens. It is simply a doorway to a new way of being or thinking, or living and all unknowns are uncomfortable in some way.
And, honestly, each one has led to something better most of the time.
I lived with the knowledge that my husband was unfaithful in so many ways for most of our long marriage. That kind of worry and doubt cultivated for years and years and years is bound to promote stress. Then I dated someone who was a freer spirit than I was used to and that was stressful too, although it was a profound lesson in loving. Add an actual scammer to all this and it is not unreasonable to see why I find it difficult to trust people.
But not trusting most people is unfair to everyone, them and me. We should be able to start with a clean slate except my slate has a fine mist of leftover bits left on it. And blow as hard as I might; washing it clean night after night, even trying to replace it with something totally new just can't seem to make everything bright shiny new. I am damaged goods.
That is stressful.
Sometimes I feel more like a thing than a human. During those times all my creativity dies. That is why I need a muse. That muse becomes the key to my freedom. Our interactions allow my thoughts to soar into those unimaginable places and become imaginable.
Unfortunately being my muse is not easy and it seldom lasts very long. Then losing the muse becomes another stressor as I ponder and grieve the loss.
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