Walls

We all do it. Put up walls around us so that we can manage to protect something of ourselves. Protect it from others. Protect it from ourselves. Protect it from our other thoughts. Protect our other thoughts from it. We all have this nasty little habit of making sure that we cut ourselves into neatly squared away pieces so that we can fit each piece into the certain room that it is supposed to be in. And some more than others (and I find myself very often guilty of this) make sure that I shut each door so that there is no chance of a mixup. Of emotion, of thought, of action. Its a separation of the certain parts of my life to an extent. And I don't know why I do it. I don't know why anyone does it. I don't know why I don't like talking to people. I don't know why this internal neatness has become such an inherent part of the way I function and why I can't just create a little bit of a mess. Why can't I bulldoze a wall here and maybe open a door there? Put in a window here with a light curtain so a little sunlight can come through? Occasionally a light breeze? Why can't we hire interior decorators for the little houses of walls we all have inside of us? Why can't we let someone show us the way to open up enough without giving too much away? Is there a such thing as giving too much away?

"Ruin is a gift.
"Ruin is the road to transformation"

Julia Roberts' character says this in the film adaptation of the book Eat, Pray, Love after spending nearly 4 months in Italy trying to find her "word." Trying to figure out why she feels dead on the inside. Maybe this is the key. Maybe there is no such thing as giving too much away and we need to literally take a demolition crew to the maze of walls. Knock them all down. Just let all of our thoughts and emotions flow free. But that seems dangerous. And scary.

Radhi