Friday, November 30

Orange slices

I wish I could feel more whole. How does one, with a secret that eats away at the soul, feel whole? And maybe it's not necessarily a secret, because people know, persons of importance and affect know, but maybe it's a self doubt that so consumes one that it becomes secretive in nature.

We are a confident, cocky, prideful people. I often feel like if I use the word humble in daily conversation, I am given the once over with pity and shock. Either of which humility should never bring upon oneself. And if we are so sure that our actions are right and just and whole, then why do we hide them away like child's toys, or mud, or any other sinful thing in life.

And this notion of sin is still one that I struggle with. If it is so wrong, why is there an innate urge to do it? All the time in varying degrees and actions? Is it the actual action that eats part of ourselves so that we feel unwhole, or the feeling that comes from it, the shame and the doubt, which often is not self induced. Why am I ok doing this, but you are not? And if you are not, should I equally strive to meet the expectation you have set for yourself?

And so I do not feel whole. Maybe because of something I have done. Maybe because of the doubt. Like fruit that has been sliced into quarters and handed out to children who fight over the largest section. It is no longer and orange, but oranges.

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