Hi, future self.  It's me again.

It's so funny, that the first thing that I write to my future self about is about the past.  Not even what's going on right now, or what might happen in the future.  Just...our shared past.  But I guess there's nothing wrong with that, is there?  After all, my past is the number one thing that I have in common with my future self.  No matter what changes, my past will be my past.  My feelings about it will grow =more complex=, more nuanced, more understood, and perhaps more and more different feelings will develop.  But they won't go away.

"Perhaps you reap what you sow -- karma.  The next chapters of my life are starting to be outlined, and I have...some feelings about it that I won't care to elaborate on.  I know the path forward and I know who laid the various bricks, as well as the confluence of factors leading each one to be placed in its particular formation.  I feel like I have the experience to see these things, to understand what really happened, and even to understand what did not happen.  Exposing yourself is hard; that is why it is always safest to not ask a question.  Why would you ask something when you are afraid of what the answer might be?  Sometimes it's too hard, so we just don't ask in the first place.  This, I saw, too, and stumbled upon the path forward.

But it made me a bit sad.  Knowing why things are the way things are does not make me wonder any less "why" it can't be another way.  Why we must ask for everything that we need.  I know the answer, but I cannot deny the sadness in it.  That we might never be cared for simply for existing, for being our selves, and our past selves, and our future selves.  That our minds will never be read, that they will never be attempted to be read, and even when they are, that we will wish they hadn't.  Instead we must verbalize everything.

That, is one of the reasons why Sayuri has remained as an icon for me.  It was an envisioning of a solution for me -- the solution to the problem of expession.  Sayuri was tranquil, calm, and at peace.  If Sayuri was quiet, then surely there must be a way.  Along the way, Sayuri had, perhaps, one or two small caregivers.  But I don't she ever depended upon others to provide what she never said.  Perhaps Sayuri's presence is a lone one as well, yet she is also happy.  Is it a contradiction?  Or has Sayuri followed the precepts, and reached a place where she can survive on her lonesome whilst being truly content?  Surely, Sayuri carries deep attachments within herself, as I do too.  Has experienced pain and suffering, yet carries on quietly with a lightness that belies her troubled past.  Why?  What is the source of her strength?  Perhaps it is simply that tranquility is its own boon -- that the act of carrying oneself with calmness is inherently meditative.  And that practice can ground us.

Who is left, in this desolate inner temple?  Who will be the deity to return to me?  Perhaps I have not been as steadfast with my worship, but I have continued to pray, to hope, and to wait, haven't I?  Will I someday find salvation?  Or will I someday turn away from the statues forever, and walk away in the endless night?  Perhaps I will someday stop moving, and become a statue myself.  Frozen in place, finally free of time, that ceaseless harbinger of death and decay."

Why did I write this?  Why was I so sad?  What happened to me that June?  I can think of a few things, but I wish...I wish I understood what it was.

But regardless of how I don't know, that didn't stop me from just rereading these paragraphs.  You are heard.  Probably not just by me, of course -- I know I had my other readers, even at this time.  But it is MORE important (if late), that you are heard, by me.  By myself.

I wonder what it would take, to take ALL of the pain and loneliness in these blog entries into my arms.  To speak to each of them -- little fragments of my past self.  To offer forgiveness.  Empathy.  A shoulder to cry on.

We have such noble views of self-love, I think.  It's tempting to think that it is "only yourself" that can truly give you the love that you deserve.  But I'm sorry to say that I don't think that I can.  It's....not that I think I'm not good enough (though I often do).  It's simply that I understand.  The loneliness that I felt so often just...isn't something that I can solve through self-love.  There ARE spurts of life when I can be alone, and still say "yes, life is at a 5 out of 5".  But those are the exception rather than the rule.  I know.  I know because I was there, feeling that loneliness, and I know what I needed, and what I yearned for.

I also know because I have experienced it.  And it's not something that I can replicate for myself.  Not fully, at least.  I can offer palliative care, I can tend to symptoms, but I can't cure my own heart like that.

Sayuri...is she a good friend?  I find myself puzzled thinking of that question.  Being quiet is perhaps one of her strongest qualities.  Why, actually, is she likable?  Is it simply because she is beautiful, cool, talented?  Is it simply because she is a wishful part of myself?  Or is there something more?  Sayuri...is a good friend, in a way, I feel like she must be, no?  She finds the ways to support people, silently, without saying anything.  Without asking anything in return.  That's not to say that one should never ask for anything, but for Sayuri...I think, she doesn't have to.  Sayuri knows her own limits, but she also knows how to stretch herself in achieve what she cares about.  To support the ones that she cares about.  Hah, well, perhaps that is one thing that we may have in common.

I guess it might depend on who you ask.  I don't know for sure whether or not I'd be friends with Sayuri in real life, but I'd like to think that if I was, it would bring me happiness.  I'd....like to think that Sayuri can bring others happiness, too.  Everyone talks so much about being authentic, vulnerable, being proactive, being confident, being open-minded, being yourself.  I know....I know all of those things are probably important.  But they are not =needed= by Sayuri, that is what is so beautiful about her existence.  It's not that those things are bad.  It's that those things are not the only things.  There is another way to be, and no matter what anyone believes or tells you, you CAN be this way.  You don't have to sacrifice yourself if you don't want to.  Sure, sometimes, you get to.  But you don't have to.  And like I love Sayuri, somewhere out there, there will be someone who loves you too, despite it all.

There have been a few times when I have written in this blog things that caused people to worry about whether I was going to take my own life (usually on accident).  But worry not, for I am already dead.  I have already died a thousand million times, and as much as I'd like not to, I will die a million times more.  Is it really "rebirth" if the existence that hatches from the egg is different than the original?  The me that you knew is already dead.  The me that you loved is already dead.  And with them, all of their hopes and dreams, pain and suffering, were all left for this one to take as heirlooms.

And for some reason, despite hating the very idea of family heirlooms, I take all of it on, gladly.  For you, I'll make the exception.  For you, I'll carry everything forward that I can.

I don't know what to say about the last part.  About the statues, and the deities.  I just feel like every outcome is sad, and I don't know what I am supposed to do about that.  If I keep on praying to the statues forever, it's sad.  If I leave the statues forever, it's sad.  If I become a statue, it's sad.  What am I supposed to do, about this temple?

If one of those statues came to life, and sat with me, would it be less sad?  I don't even know.  Is it less sad if I truly commune with those deities, instead of simply praying silently?  Is it less sad if my prayers are answered?  What, then?  What happens afterward, after I receive the blessing of the gods?  Is that when I leave and return to my daily life?  Is that how it's supposed to work?

As much as I'd like to give up, there is still work to be done.  And there are those that don't even have the choice to keep going.  So, I guess tomorrow, we steel ourselves and dig in.  Coming up for air when we need to.

But you don't need to.  You don't always need to be the one to steel yourself.

I think the reason you always feel this way is because there is nobody around to save you.  Of course, you would feel this way.  That you would have to keep going until someone can save you.

I wish I could save you.  But I know that I can't.  All I can do is remind you that you don't have to keep going.  Even if there is no one left.  You don't have to keep trying..................

.................and yet, as I say that, I know I don't believe it.  Even our saviors -- those magical girls who keep us safe and fight for our sake -- even they suffer from what they call despair and grief.  When Madoka rewrote the world, she took on the burden of everyone.  Was it Homura that "saved" Madoka from this burden?  No, of course not.  That's not the way that it is.  Was Madoka's wish, a mistake, then?  You could certainly say so, from a certain way of thinking.  But like Sayuri, Madoka is "perfect", just...in a different way.  Those magical girls are able to count on Madoka in a similar way that I might be able to count on Sayuri.  Why was it, though, that those magical girls needed a "Madoka" in order to truly be saved?  Does that say something about us, that we need to be delivered into salvation by something so great, and not simply by the strength of each others' compassion?  Why is it that we cannot learn to forgive ourselves for our mistakes, our transgressions, our selfishness, our regrets?  Is there, out there, somewhere, a magical girl who discovered the one emotion that is more powerful than shame?  The one that allows us to transcend who we are, to change our own limits, to bring each other together?

 

It doesn't have to be an endless battle, but nor does it have to be an endless tea party, either.  Someday, I believe you'll be saved.  It will be magical, but it will also be a simple, mundane, clumsy thing.