Free Falling...

“After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child, and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure… that you really are strong, and you really do have worth.” ~Veronica A. Shoffstall

Came across this quote on some one's Facebook page a while back. The quote is quite a 'feel-good' one but it was that one line about accepting defeats with the grace of an adult & not the grief of a child that I found resonance in & it's that one line that's been going on in my head which led to a number of other thoughts- Not connected but certainly related.

Firstly, the reason the line stuck was because I've been getting a lot of flak for behaving like a child at times. When I look at my actions or thoughts, it IS true & despite all my attempts to curb such responses & think rationally, my instinctive reactions are irrational. I'd rather react than understand, sulk than reason, live in denial than make a change, hide than confront.

Secondly, since reading this quote, there were some (separate) conversations with friends that got me thinking... How is it that the basic story in people's lives are the same? Our reaction to grief & disappointment is the same... We question our self worth!

"Why is this happening to me?"
"What am I lacking?"
"Why am I so imperfect?"
"Why do I make the same mistakes twice over?"
"Maybe, I deserve this..."
"Maybe everyhting happens for a reason..."
"Maybe there's something better in store..."

And that's the funny thing... We all think we're inferior to the rest of the world. So even though we might feel really crappy & look at others & envy their happiness, the truth is that everyone is just as vulnerable to being in the dumps & feeling like they lack something in them.

I'm realizing that women & relationships always seem to have the same outcome irrespective of the woman! Maybe it even applies to the men, but I don't know enough of that to comment.

Take any kind of woman... She could be the hopelessly romantic, thinks-with-the-heart, homely kinds or the brazen, no-nonsense, thinks-with-her-head kinds or she could be the anywhere- in-between kinds. Along comes a guy, and the differences in the kinds blur. Then there's just one kind: the woman in love kinds! And then, there comes a heartbreak... the differences blur again. Then again there's just one kind: The heart-broken woman who deals with insecurities. Wonders why her. Wonders about her (mostly, imagined) shortcomings. Wonders if she'd ever have her shot at true, long lasting love. And then, there are the friends for reassurance. And there is the little speech they give about how to forget & move on. How to love oneself & give our own selves priority & that love would follow (Much like the quote above, love yourself & grow your own garden of flowers rather than waiting for someone to love you & get you the flowers)

I'm not trying to sound cynical or mock anything or anyone here. However, what is catching my interest here is that we (women) all feel singular in our grief. When our heart breaks, we feel like we're bearing the brunt of the worst. But... the irony of it all is that somehow or the other all our lives are similar, our grieving process is the same, our insecurities are the same, our reassurances are the same & our faith & hope is also the same.

I guess the best is to wait till we've grown up some more & can look back & smile wisely, fondly (maybe, even ruefully) & nostalgically at what passed. Until then, I guess we keep going on & on, repeating our mistakes over & over again. Maybe, our mistakes don't teach us to be perfect. Maybe, they just teach us to be less imperfect the next time round...