Sometimes I’m worried

... that I might not make any difference. Sometimes I fear that I might have caught you on your way out. However much I might enjoy talking to you, however much I might wish to know you better, I won’t be able to persuade you to stay. And you would take all the good things with you when you go. (All the good things that are yours alone, that no one else is or could ever be quite the same.)

Pain has an element of blank

Emily Dickinson (1830–86).  Complete Poems.  1924.

Part One: Life XIX

PAIN has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,	5
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.

What I know is

It won’t be as good as before. It’ll be better.

Coming back

Today I tried to learn a new routine for the first time since I gave up dancing. It wasn’t easy but also not too difficult. But afterwards I became upset because Julian made a joking comment about how I just have to be better than the worst dancer in the video. He meant well but it reminded me of everything that gets me down. My conflicted feelings toward competition and toward my tendency to compare myself with others. Then all of a sudden, I was reminded of my desire to really be able to put myself out there and also the knowledge and fear that when you open me up what’s on the inside is nothing but sadness that I don’t want anyone to see or share. This lead me to the feeling that the world I have known is not a kindly but a treacherous place, where you can’t let it all hang out because it’ll abuse you and knock you down. Finally, grieving at everything I lost: the skills which I devoted so long to learning. The sense of accomplishment I had built up. The person that I was (and the fact that I was somebody to some people).

These last few years I’ve been experimenting with whether I could lose it all and still be happy. Not be a great dancer. Not be someone on the scene. I thought I had achieved some of that, but now I’m not sure. Maybe I still had some sadness about it left. I hope though that after everything that could be lost is gone, I’ll find what is truly inalienably mine. I hope that whatever that is, it’ll be something worthwhile. I hope that it gives me strength and self-confidence and joy from deep within, so that all the self comparison in the world will not make me feel threatened, because I know what I am and I still bring something to the table (even if I’m not the best at it, or the most important person).

Sören has been telling me a bit about the gaming world on Twitch and I was surprised at the willingness of gamers to engage with the community. I guess when people really reach into the void, I’m always surprised because I more or less believe that it would be a very negative experience. According to him the community is largely friendly with (obv) some exceptions. I hope I get to a time in my life where I could trust the world enough to venture out again. When I do I hope I don’t regret too much all the time I spent hiding myself away.