Duality

I feel like I’m about to bleed creativity only my schizophrenic brain won’t allow me to settle on a thought long enough to put pen to paper or my fingers to the keys. I’m trapped within my own internal vortex of thoughts, fits and starts of excited beginnings with no middles and no ends in sight. 

A brainstorming session leaves me breathless and confused; trying to grasp a single line of internal conversation involves a desperate mind sprint, a leap and a grunt as I pick myself up out of the dust, empty-handed with a slight taste of dissatisfaction in my mouth. When did it become so hard to think about just one thing and only one thing until it was thought out?

I like to be focused, in control. I like order, schedules and fully-conceived plans. But this crazy, tangled rat’s nest of words, emotions and desires is causing an internal fight — the wild, untamed side is laughing in the face of the calm, collected side and daring it to let its hair down, to play hooky for a day, to be a little bit naughty. Daring that latter version to feel good and to like it.

“Trust me,” she says. “Sometimes the best moments in life happen when you step out to greet them without looking down, without looking back.”

She reminds me that I am a Gemini, marked by a dual nature that thrives on both unexpected challenges and planned opportunities. Having spent the better part of Recently wrapping myself in the creature comforts of stability, now I find myself straining at the bindings, arching my back in protest against the rigors of routine and writhing against a life of platitude.

Is this a thought to hold onto, to grasp long enough to stretch it out flat and dissect it down to its beginnings, to its core purpose? Or will it too, slither away from my tempered curiosity and taunt me from behind the line I drew at my own feet, daring me to keep my eyes open and to cross into the unknown?