A letter to the past and the future: exploring who I was and who I want to be

Fulfillment is an intriguing state of existence, one that imparts a profound sense of wholeness, both within and without. It’s as if your very being emanates a radiant aura, enhancing your interactions with others, and even causing the sun to appear more resplendent than its usual self. In truth, the sun remains a constant presence, even when shrouded by clouds, it exists. And your smile becomes a mirror reflecting its latent brilliance. You know?

Have you ever experienced a surge of vitality, unrelated to caffeine or any external stimulant, but simply born from the sheer joy of existence? This is the essence of fulfillment. At times, I endeavor to seize the most from my moments of happiness, acutely aware of their ephemeral nature. I immerse myself in a myriad of activities – be it driving, cycling, exercising, or bestowing compliments upon others, openly expressing my love for them. When my happiness eventually wanes, I gently inform them that they’ll have to await its resurgence on another occasion- like a lunar eclipse. However, when one is steeped in fulfillment, such temporal concerns dissolve into insignificance.

Imagine having an endless reservoir of happiness at your disposal, free to use as you please. There are no limits or constraints on your capacity for joy, affection, ambition, embraces, wishes, passions, empathy, love, or companionship. There’s no ticking timer counting down your moments of bliss, lurking like a foreboding abyss, waiting for you to painstakingly reclaim parts of yourself. Now, let me be clear, I’m not professing to possess a comprehensive understanding of the precise conditions or all-encompassing benefits of fulfillment, nor am I suggesting that it automatically encompasses everything I’ve mentioned.

What I can suggest, however, is that you keep that proverbial door ajar – don’t let it shut. Please, don’t ever let it close. It’s why my nails are kept short, you know. Beyond that door lies a source of light, something to look forward to, a purpose; whatever that purpose may be, it’s a matter of your own interpretation.

I used to harbor the belief that my own happiness stemmed from helping others, often neglecting my own well-being in the process. I was raised with a set of principles that prioritized self-sacrifice over self-care, a philosophy that expected me to serve as a vessel for the fulfillment of others without replenishing my own dwindling reserves.

As time marches on, its value gradually diminishes, leaving little to offer once its intended purpose has been fulfilled—a recycling bin brimming with regrets, toxic remnants, and missed opportunities. The furrows etched upon my forehead bear the weight of wrinkles, and my countenance, though striking, bears the scars of wear and tear. (how modest of me) I stand as a captivating yet depreciating asset, crafted by weathered hands, slowly succumbing to the erosion of time, much like the marble that flakes away and the corrosion that gnaws at what the sun has sculpted over the years.

Once, in the earliest days, there was a radiance that graced this form. Within this statue, you might perceive the eyes of a young boy brimming with tears, prompting you to question the reality of what you’ve witnessed. Can a statue shed tears, move, or feel? Carved into the stone, the inscription reads, “I’m but a dying star.” Memories of a fallen hero fade from the collective consciousness, flickering in and out of oblivion like broken wires in an old warehouse. After all, don’t we all inevitably fade into obscurity eventually?

Who am I to arrogantly assume I possess some grand purpose, I once pondered. An overwhelming sense of apathy surrounds me, while anger solidifies its grip. Miscommunications and the incessant cycle of over-analysis give birth to a cavalcade of negative emotions—envy, doubt, shame, fear, grief, guilt, frustration—all taking their lofty positions, reigning over the desolate wastelands, where once-lush pastures fade into obscurity.

My dear, you need to offer yourself a dose of self-affirmation. Remind yourself that you’re more than just a brain encased in an armored mechanical shell. It’s crucial to prevent those furrows near your cheeks from deepening, as they become the channels for the tears of depression to carve their path. You mustn’t allow this to persist. Fire up your supercomputer, and harness its power to your advantage. Falling into the abyss of monotony isn’t your aspiration; it’s your worst nightmare.

Even though you find yourself slicing through kudzu vines that relentlessly regrow faster than you can sever them, you relish the challenge. You take pride in your fleeting victories over these behemoths, knowing they’ll spring back even stronger, fueled by the seeds of infernal determination. Employ your i5, i7, i8, and i10 processors, until even your mighty supercomputer struggles to keep pace. It’s okay not to be able to keep up.

Allow yourself to speak up without casting your gaze to the floor in distress. Cease the endless counting of molecules with your metaphorical x-ray vision, attempting to fend off anxiety. Quit using your fist as a makeshift hammer to claw your way out of your own metaphorical Shawshank. Permit vulnerability to take hold for a brief moment before your masterpiece marble statue risks becoming a fallen relic, no longer embraced in today’s ever-evolving society.

Allow yourself to blossom much like the flowers you meticulously plant and tend to—those you serenade and diligently cleanse of dust. Don’t stifle your innate impulse to shed tears, even if the notion of others hearing them gives you pause and relief. I resonate with your pain and turmoil. Resist the urge to pursue the unattainable in a frantic quest to validate your humanity. Embrace your existence, for you are an extraordinary entity, and you have purpose. Adorn yourself with stars, use them as a crown fit for royalty. Emit a radiant brilliance that extends beyond the confines of convention, let yourself be observable by intelligent beings on distant planets. Inhale the essence of decay and exhale the fertility of possibility. Take a moment to observe the burgeoning nature that surrounds you.

I implore you to partake in this exercise: gaze at your reflection in the mirror and take a deep, deliberate breath, and now focus. Take note of how your physical form responds to this simple act. Remind yourself that you are comprised of flesh and bone, not mere metal and code, and dispositions of suck, and expectations of a few.

Reassure yourself that things will work out. They always do, even when they appear otherwise. You’ve got this, and I care about you. Seriously, don’t stress out. Now, here’s a little exercise for you: say this to yourself at least twenty times. It might feel a bit strange, but trust me, it helps.

And hey, give yourself a little pat, or a gentle touch on the parts you’re not so thrilled with. Don’t give up on yourself. Just keep pushing forward. Remember, you’ve got potential, and there are people who support you. Behind every machine, even those caught in the whirlwind of self-doubt and self-criticism, there’s a human being. Let that inner light be your guide.

If you’re feeling up to it, sing or hum the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” And when you’re done, take a moment to look up at the sky. And for all that’s happened and all that’s yet to come, thank you.

Published by Cristian Leonardo Gajardo

Welcome to Cristian’s Cafe, a website where I showcase my various forms of expression and happiness. Here you can find poetry, podcasts, personal blogging, research articles, open mic, comedy, and art. Whether you are looking for inspiration, entertainment, or information, you will find something that suits your taste and mood. Enjoy browsing through my content and feel free to leave your comments and feedback. Please note that the Wi-Fi connection may be slow or unstable at times, so please be patient and look at the art instead. Thank you for visiting Cristian’s Cafe

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