I’m too focused on what other people might think of me. Looking around at the wreckage that I refer to as my life, I think I have very little to offer in the way of wisdom.

J.D., Thank you for opening up because it’s a sentiment I wholeheartedly share. It’s so easy to attribute confidence to others who may have similar grapplings. I feel like an echo chamber despite the internal cursor clamouring to string words together. If this echo chamber version of imposter syndrome drives me harder to say something worthy, I will happily suffer for it. Your art is making the whole. You are doing it now. Your living lexicon, your bird’s eye view of the heights, your process of articulating your experience is itself wisdom. We are such unfinished creatures. I am staring to think that’s the point and that’s the terrible freedom. I’m sure Camus is a friend of yours.

The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

and

From the moment absurdity is recognized, it becomes a passion, the most harrowing of all. But whether or not one can live with one’s passions, whether or not one can accept their law, which is to burn the heart they simultaneously exalt – that is the whole question.

-Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus…

My intuition lead me to respond with this text and I may have been able to find some better quotes but my copy is drying from my bedside water glass. The book is an old friend I had wanted to revisit.

Thanks for your words.

Written by

MA Eng. Mama, Poet, Iconoclast, Word Nerd. Likes shiny things. Writes on Philosophy, Art, Music, Nature.

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