Where is that fine line between something to be passionate about, and crossing over to obsession?
How do I see the obsession and set the boundaries to keep my self from being caught in the tidal wave?
What boundaries do I build to keep balance?
Who decides if the balance is enough, if the passion is enough?

Having always had a tendency towards OCD; I don’t like doctors, think I’ve mentioned this a few times before. I like self analysis, and I know I have OCD tendencies. I have some tactics that work in somethings to just tell those negative voices to be silent. To just tell those spider web thoughts to calm down, to breath and to just trust to just believe. Sometimes these are effective, sometimes they are less effective.

I am a passionate person; its easy for me to say this being a Cardinal Fire Sign (Ares) – its not that I take astrology as gospel more that its a nice outline of a road map to what a person can have for tools, what will come naturally and harmoniously to the person. Cardinal Fire sign means I burn brightly, I burn hard and fast, I put all of myself into things, and when they are gone, when the ashes fall to the ground and dust, I’m alive and reborn and I reform like the phoenix and start over again. Fiery in the sky of light.

Tend to believe I am a good person. Good being a very very subjective word. I strive to harm little or none in my traipsing through gardens of life. Sometimes I’m more or less successful. Sometimes I blatantly violate someone unintentionally and spend hours, days, weeks, years analyzing how I could have missed that particular path, how I could have avoided it – this is where the OCD kicks in, and I have to silence those voices; remind myself I am human. Perfectly imperfect in every way, striving towards harmony and improvement, take the information out of the experience and allow the experience to fade. Sometimes this works very effectively, and I walk away feeling empowered, feeling at one and calm with the universe. Sometimes it does not.

Have noticed some patterns for when it does not work effectively. When I have fear. When I am afraid of losing something, precious, something quintessential or something valuable. it is much harder to silence those internal rants that make up the direction my passions take when they are not focused for good …. inject some quote here about with “ultimate power comes ultimate responsibility” — the ability to be so passionate, to throw all of myself into things does not necessarily mean that all of the things I through myself into with all of my being are “good”.

Temperance is a skill I’ve been trying to cultivate over recent years, and this blog is an attempt to allow myself to grow more temperance. I have something right now, that I am – for lack of another word – breaking. Due to the inability to find some way to silence the voices that are afraid of losing something. The irony is that pretty much the only way I will LOSE this particular thing is by not finding this temperance. Not finding this balance. I just feel lost.

I have been trying to write these things out, to write down these feelings to make decisions to stick by the decisions for how to handle this – and they are not working. I am not standing behind my suggestions, because I do not trust that they are the correct course of action. My internal voices are at war, they are fighting. So many voices all struggling for dominance.

Part of this is due to falling off the wagon with exercise, with meditation, with writing – all of these things help, allowing my true self to maintain dominance. Right now, the voices of self loathing, self worth, self esteem, courage, strength, pettiness, insecurity, these are all fighting internal battles, and there is no captain, no commander at the helm to raise a hand and silence the winds. The waters are burning, the boat is adrift. That dominant voice, is curled up in a little ball in the corner, sobbing.

See I realized something two weeks ago, I had a “come to Jesus” type of conversation, one of those internal conversations where you realize something of such great insurmountable importance that you can’t deny it. And the particular epiphany was profound for me on many levels. It was sad. So there is a large part of me that does not want to silence the wars, that does not want them to be quiet. I just want the whole place to burn down, and be done, so that I can be reborn and be the phoenix again.

The epiphany was that I had broken a rule. I had gone from loving to being in love with – the action portion of the verb – atleast this was the first part – and I know this seems silly, I look back over months, and I think, how could I have not noticed, known this was the case, my brain didn’t know. Worse, what I realized is not only did I break the rule, I had built a delusion around this in love with …. I had a whole fantasy within my mind of how things were, what things were, and where they were going. The epiphany was this being shattered. I was suddenly aware of my feelings, my actions, my false reality, the hypocrisy of it.

Of course, when you recognize you are on the wrong path, its very easy to sit down, write things out, and convince yourself that you need to move past this, you need to be the better person, make changes, step to the side, turn the other cheek so to speak – suffer in silence. I tried this, I wrote out my struggle, my feelings, and it helped for a heartbeat. A breath.

Then the self loathing, the not good enough laid waste to my plans, and then the self esteem, the self worth stepped in and the war started. Every moment, every breath every thought every action since then has been this torment of one side or the other. Maybe try this, Maybe try that – maybe this will make you feel better again, maybe this will fix things again.

I wrote out three other diatribes, to try and cleanse myself, to try and burn it out of my system. And the war actually over swelled even into the writing. Into the essence of that pure part of me. I felt it overcome me, and I retreated. There is this quiet place in the back of my mind. Its the place I go when I am in a very bad place.

I’m going to write this out now, it is not something I tend to share, I am hoping to reclaim myself by sharing this intimate part of me.

There is this overgrown stone pillar arch, it has vines growing up the sides, there is a single bench stone – so stained with mossy growth so as to be more green and lush than anything else. The sun shines in this place, lightly through a loft of trees that canopy the open ceiling. In cold of winter, which sometimes it is in this place, depending upon what I need at the moment I am here. In cold of winter, when the trees have no leaves, the sky the stars shine through here, and there is moonlight reflecting on a bird bath in one side of this gazebo of stone. It typically does not have water, except in the spring, sometimes in early summer, sometimes in fall, where the rains have filled it with water, sometimes the water is green – thriving with life, wild and random life.

There is a raised bowl like shape that sometimes has a fire burning in it, I don’t know exactly how it works, I just know it has fire sometimes, its a metal type bowl shape, and the fire sometimes has coals sometimes incense. Sometimes its just dark, or filled with ash. The wind nearly always rustles in the branches, the trees, sometimes blowing the fountain if its on, sometimes flickering the fire, always kissing the tree limbs. Sometimes there are birds here, sometimes there are not.

This is the place, where I go, typically in a white gown like robe, almost like a sheet, that drapes over both of my shoulders, it has gold trim on both sides left and right, and a single gold sash with tassels that hang loosely at my waist. Its long, down to my feet, and I’m always barefooted here, feeling the cool stone, laiden with moss, and dirty under my feet. The stone is always cool to the touch, even when the beams of sunlight shine in this place. Sometimes the gown is black, and the trim is a red color, it has been twice that I know of, when I came here needing some type of vengeance.

Most times, the gown is white, and I come here, seeking solace, seeking peace, and seeking council. Most of the time, I sit and I breath, and the wind kisses my cheeks, my shoulders, my neck and whispers to me calming thoughts, reminding me I am loved. The fountain sometimes bubbles and babbles with words of love and adoration – words of gratitude and inspiration.

The fire, crackles sometimes, warming, burning away all my anxiety, my self doubts, any feelings of negativity, purifying my spirit, and setting me back to a place of contentment with the knowledge of rebirth and rejuvenation. The earth is all around me, calming comforting, the trees bending in the canopy, with leaves falling softly to remind me that all of life is precious, my life is precious and that I am a child of the universe. Litanies of self value and self worth cascade over my spirit, filling me with love, filling me from the bottom of my feet, up my body, in through my heart, over my chest, in through my throat, my mouth cleaned and purified, my head and eyes and all of my senses, completely overwhelmed by the purity that exists in this place. The comfort, the harmony the balance. There is no war. There is no strife. They do not exist in this place. I am whole, I am beautiful, I am one with the world, and I am strong. There is no doubt. There is no lack, no hole to fill, I have everything I need, there is nothing for me to lose, because I have everything I have ever wanted, every needed, and it is all precious, I have nothing to fear, there is no loss.

All of the experiences, are just that experiences, they are precious both the happy the sad the painful, and in this place, I can see them as just that lessons and experiences. Purity in being, in soul. My soul is strong, and I have no need of anything else. My body is just a shell to hold my soul and allow me to have experiences. It will pass away, as will all things of the flesh, I should enjoy them or leave them as the whim strikes me, and know that staying true to this part of myself this purity is all I need to remember. There is no one that can hurt me, because I am beyond hurt. Hurt is an emotion, and I am pure spirit. I do not hurt, I can chose to feel pain, I can chose to feel remorse, worry, sadness, self doubt, pride, envy, or I can chose to shift all of those to happiness, confidence, trust, belief, the choice is completely up to me, in the end they are all just shards, and they will fade away. Only the true self, the spirit of purity, the energy will remain.

This peaceful place is always here, I just need to climb out from under the table, from out of the small floor in the bathroom and remember to go to this place, to be in this place. To remember the war is not real, its just another fantasy my mind has constructed to confuse me and make me forget the truth.