“The Cells I am at the moment, will soon die…But I will be here. I’ll Still be here.”Cells – The Servant
There’s something really beautiful about knowing that every actual piece of me evolves into a future me. That all of my cells that I am at this moment will eventually die and be replaced by cells that are extremely similar but are not the same. I like that the same thing applies to my self, my reality, this construct that is Me.
I used to have an awful lot of arguments with H that eventually came to the discussion of whether a person could actually change. Whether a leopard Could actually change it’s spots. She believed that no matter what a person who had gotten away with things that break a trust would always break any trust they created. Once a cheater, always a cheater.
I absolutely Have to believe it is possible to change. I know that I probably have my own personal handcart chosen for my trip to a fiery afterlife for some of the things I have done in this life. I have been a royal asshole at some point to the vast majority of my friends and family, (some much more than others). I know that for the majority of my life I have chosen a path that seemed like the least resistance. I know I have broken trust amongst the majority of the women I have dated in some way. I have to believe that it’s possible for a person to see the errors of their ways. That I can be a better person through sheer will alone. Otherwise, what’s the point?
I feel like this idea is what religion is supposed to be used for. That I should turn my life over to some theoretical father figure and confess all of my mistakes and that this will guarantee some sort of better spot in an afterlife. That by having a “Come to Jesus/Allah/Buddha/Bob moment” I will be absolved of all these problems. The issue I take with that is I have been really close to dead, or at least dying, (depending on who I ask); And I saw no mythical white light coming to bring me to the next whatever. I saw a light, but it was much more likely to me that this was somebody shining a light into comatose eyes. The light came well after I had my near-death experience. After I was on life support.
I guess you could say the idea of change has been on my mind a lot lately. I’ve been thinking a lot about how I have changed, how others have changed, and what I would like to see changed. I believe very strongly in the idea of being the change you want to see. So I avoid political discussion with most people because I know it tends to make me emotional. Meaning I stop listening to reason, and feel attacked. Causing me to lash out at the person because I know, I just know, that they are attacking me and my identity. The same thing generally applies to religion and other hot-take topics. I just don’t need that kind of aggravation. It makes me think of part of spoken word that Jello Biafra did about why don’t we discuss things like the best orgasm we had, or a. cool experience we had. Instead, why is it always “Look what I did to myself on my skateboard?”
I do love hearing the stories about how they survived something that actually left a permanent scar on them. But to me, the important part is they survived. They lived through it.
And now they are all the stronger for it…