Like the Phoenix from the fire...

Recently I've been rereading this book "We" by Robert Johnson. It's all about the psychology and implications of romantic love: how it interacts with the psyche, and, ultimately, if approached creatively, can balance the yin and yang of the self.

This isn't really what this post is about. But it's really gotten me thinking a lot about this balance, and what it means to have heart AND head. It's an introduction, none the less.

I can already tell that at first, this is going to get rather pessimistic sounding; cynical even. Keep reading, though, because I can all but promise a positive and uplifting ending, here.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my emotions, my motivations, my ethics. In corollary to this, I've also been thinking a lot about my friends and my interactions with them. I've been thinking a lot about how people see me, and how that changes who I am, and vice versa. All weighty topics.
People, in general, are disappointing. We, as humans, have so much potential. Of the animals, we alone have the capability to look consciously at ourselves, our emotions and motivations, and make choices on how to act. We alone have the capability to make decisions regarding right and wrong, what is ethical and what is not. Yet, so few are the people that actually DO these things. For the most part, people are reactionary, selfish, indulgent and weak. We have the capability to fix the problems in our societies and in the world, to stave off hunger, to cure any disease, to stop power hungry men from killing, abusing and torturing, both singly and in mass. We don't. Instead, we continue on with our own lives, doing little, or, at worst, contributing without second thought to our own actions (hear me, Hummer drivers??). I am learning, slowly, to love people, in general, anyway. It's really not that I hate the way they are, but rather I am angered that they are not what they COULD BE. Myself included, even if I DO feel like I try harder than most.

All of my friends are amazing. They are people, generally, of honesty, loyalty, integrity and passion. A couple of them (you know who you are) lately have made me aware of just how much I owe them. They are probably the two of my friends that have given me the most compared to what I have given back. One in particular I should thank: she has shown me the most loyalty and compassion when I have given her plenty of reason not to and little to encourage her.
Which leads me, in a meandering sort of way, to what I'm really getting at. Or at least the nearest prelude to it. I've gone through a lot in the last year...it just seems to keep coming at me. Recently this woman sent me a very supportive and heartfelt email, and closed with an encouragement not to become jaded or hard. To keep my heart open to the world. And this has gotten me thinking about this reaction.
A little over a year ago was probably the happiest time in my life. Everything seemed to have fallen into place: my life had love, direction, ambition and purpose. And then, in the space of less than two weeks, it all fell apart. This was the beginning of this lesson I perhaps only recently have been able to learn.
In the following months, I have been shown disappointment, disloyalty, disillusionment and betrayal from a number of examples. I open my heart (not just in romance) and get ignorance or disdain. A number of the people in my life have shown me behaviors and sides of themselves that hurt, deeply. I have been treated in ways I never saw coming from some of the people I would expect it from the least. I have been abandoned, deceived, and passed over.
And I feel the impulse to shut down. It's strong. I want to be angry, and bitter. I want to be cold. I want to turn the same self-serving attitude on the people (and the world) that have turned it on me. I want the protection of a walled-over heart.

The phrase "once burned, twice shy" pops to mind. You learn a lesson when you're hurt: don't do that again. But, instead, I think there is a truer lesson to learn: the ability to feel this way, to be disappointed and disillusioned and hurt, and instead of protecting yourself, open your heart to the world anyway. To say, "Yes, I love you" against all impulse to turn away. To look at the world, at people, and how fucked up it all is, and love it anyway.

I don't have it figured out. Not at all. But I do have my bearings again. I know where to turn, which direction to face, what path to walk. This is what I've been missing for a long time, now. What I've gained is not a 'thing', or even a knowledge. Instead, it's something I've lost, that I needed to lose: hope, expectation. Not the good kind of optimistic hope, but the kind of hope that keeps you attached to some particular outcome or behavior. These betrayals and disappointments are like a cleansing fire, and the good examples, the heartfelt loyalty I've been shown in the midst of it from unexpected sources cleared the smoke from the air.

Like the phoenix from the fire I feel like I've been reborn from the ashes of an intense and purifying blaze.

I know the last while I've been kinda weird to a lot of my friends that are closest to me. Expect something new.