The 2020–21 season of my life has certainly been one to remember; and living through the pandemic may be the least memorable part of it. The world has changed, and though it may seem incremental; the true change which reside in the threads of our reality has happened at warp-speed.
The world within me has also changed, and though this seems to have happened at warp-speed, I sense the changes more incrementally. These changes do not occur without a tussle; without needing to dismantle modes of thinking that for such a long time seemed only too natural.
I have spent most of my life contemplating and questioning the world around me; a world we take for granted if we do not contemplate it. I had yet to question my own place in the world and the narrative of my own making.
I have spent this 2020–21 season fighting the demons of my past and those that live within me. I have grown stronger thanks to times I have felt at my weakest. This strength fortifies slowly; it struggles to become apparent.
I have embarked on a journey to dismantle my core beliefs, my own subjective parameters that have filtered all of the billions of bits of information into one comprehensive narrative for me to exist in. A narrative that I had believed to be irrefutable, unequivocal; one in which I saw no alternative. I was the Thatcher/Reagan of subjective experiences.
These are thoughts, values, and behaviours that I believed (and stubbornly continue to) were natural. Ones that made me who I am, and that my identity would be forever linked to. When thrown into family or unfamiliar situations, this is how I see myself:
These core beliefs linger beneath any situation in which Chaos takes over Order. This is where Chaos equals to a lack of control; it is a situation in which my positive core beliefs of myself are challenged or cannot manifest. When this Chaos takes over, dragging the negative core beliefs behind it, then I begin to experience a physiological response. Often triggered by an external event that would seem innocuous to many.