Love Colored Glasses

A number of years ago I began a writing project with a friend of mine.  We called it "Narcissus and Goldmund."  Each choosing the persona that suited us the most.  At that time I was Goldmund.  In the book by Herman Hesse, Goldmund is the artist while Narcissus is the thinker.

Goldmund leaves the confines of the monastery to search the world for answers, while his Teacher, Narcissus stays behind.

The writing project with my friend fizzled out.  Lack of time, interest, or desire is possibly the cause.  I went back and read what we had written and was amused at much of it.

My friend's monastery has since burnt down and she has had to take up new residence.  I am moving from my own for an uncharted destination.

I have done many things since that writing project began.  I have shed many tears both good and bad. I have seen and welcomed people in to my life only to watch them move away, grow apart, die, or just move on.

Although I have had a few relationships none have been right.  None have stuck.  For this I blame myself.  I know I have made great strides in my grief and in my acceptance of who I am. But every now and then an unexpected curve ball gets thrown my way.  Just when I believe I am truly ready to open my heart, I discover I have chosen the wrong person to receive it.

I have already admitted that I now know I am capable of saying horrible things with the intention of hurting.  I am still shocked when I do this and seem unable to control it. Even if it stems as a verbal self defense to what has been said to me, I should still be able to refrain from it.

I have tried in vain to move away from the negativity that has been brought to me.  I have had to give up even my own personal name as it was taken from me.  I will soon be giving up the name of this blog as that too has been taken from me.

I have been accused of being a narcissist, and using my writing as "a pathetic cry for attention."  I am guilty of allowing the pain to continue.

Now it must stop. Removing myself is only one step.  Reclaiming myself comes next.


Thirty-four years ago I began my writing career with these simple words, "Dear Diary."  I have not stopped writing since.

I am still Goldmund wandering around in search of art, knowledge, understanding and above all; love.

 The best attention I can get is from myself.

I will now pick up, dust off, and put on my "love colored glasses" and look once again at the world and myself in a more independent yet open manner.  For that, I need no name.


http://narcissusandgoldmund.blogspot.com/