lost souls...

At one time I believed that all the lost souls were drawn to me like a moth to a flame. I could walk into a gathering and many a pair of searching eyes would zone in on me and there I would be engaged in a disarming conversation with some of them. I thought it was a special talent. It was the ability to provide unconditional acceptance and support that made me who I am. The lost souls would find a sanctuary like no other and never before, and draw from my strength to become bigger and better. Little did I know that rather than a talent it was a quality that was seriously detrimental to my well being? This very talent I needed to recover from to make me stronger within my own self. Yet again it was the age-old suspension of my being clamoring to be a whole. The lost souls resonated with that suspension and were enveloped in its chaos. This synchrony instead of making me feel stronger only served the purpose of splitting me further apart.

Let me introduce you to some such souls. The magician; I met the magician when I was 15. With his silver tongued demeanor he painted the vision of the upright solid gent who forced all others into a faded comparison. Just his strong shining presence paled the rest of the world into a faded yellow. With my very own chaotic suspension, his apparent solidity helped me imagine that I depended on him for support. But true to himself, there he was, the master manipulator – who specialized in helping you believe things that others saw as apparent lies. So strong was the presence that I spun a world of fantasy around myself and him – a fantastic, him-centric world that did not really exist but was designed to make him feel stronger than ever. He drew from my imagined and real world its life blood and slowly and steadily helped erase the boundaries of my security. Frankly I only had myself to blame for the miseries I brought upon myself.

She sought me in a group of the le miserables. She the eternal clinging twine completely absorbed the essence of my need. We were two kindred souls intertwined by our blues. Needless to say we were inseparable. Our inner selves, our experiences in childhood, our emotional chaos all congealed into one large gelatinous mass that threatened choke all the reality of our lives. So strong was the bond that even our miseries became one. I regretted my better circumstance and tried my utmost best to provide what I could to make up for what fortune had favored me with. But it needed to be a timed relationship because reality cannot survive this fusion. Even if one is conjoined, individuality and its demands exert there pressure on the relationship. Both wish to negotiate their own perspective and the lines of “either my way or the high way” are drawn.

He was the spoilt, golden prince and he loved to be loved. And so I like many others did just that… adored him; I loved him till my heart broke into two. I loved him so strongly that I couldn’t separate myself from his wishes. And then we became adults. The golden prince could not find the missing pieces to himself. He had many encounters with the Hierophant and its guidance/assistance to access the various parts to himself, but he was too afraid to look into the compartments within his soul lest one of them turn into the proverbial Pandora’s box. As for me – I could love him no more. My grown self could not help but realize that there was no chance of completion from a source which was so fragmented by itself. The Hierophant could not be the strong man or the emperor of my life. I had no option but to nurse my disappointments and make a curtain call.

The list of lost souls I have been fused with is endless but here is one more that deserves a special mention. She is the Queen of the Universe or so we all believe. Her regal ways and commanding airs have a clear impact on all of us. We all dance to the tune she plays. We dance and we dance till the soles of our feet bleed and the sweat pours of our backs. We bend over backwards, we bend over front forward, we laugh and we joke, we cry and we cajole, we hurt and we forgive, we beg and we plead and it goes on and on like the whirling windmill buffeted by the strong winds of her command. And we never tire. Till the Strong edifice, the Queen is strong no more. Our hearts break to see the object of our slavish reverence so crestfallen only to realize that we have still to continue the never ending dance of subservience.

Do we grudge her this in her hour of need? Frankly No. At least I don’t – My heart breaks every time I see the Tower fallen and the power wrested from the Queen and I wish that she would be the Queen of yore again. But what of the ministers that surround her. They in their otherwise impoverished state maybe ineffective but today have reared their ugly heads for who they are. They have surrounded us with negativity of manipulation, deceit and surreptitiousness. The otherwise subservient minions have today changed the culture of the kingdom to that of insidious means. I am naturally forced to think – which one did I prefer the absolute dance of slavery or this manipulative murky mulch that seems to engulf all in darkness. Frankly I do not have a clear preference.

On our journey through life we meet all kinds of people – some whole and some lost. But it is the LOST souls that leave an imprint in our memories. Ever wondered why? I have come to the conclusion because their apparent weakness resonates with something within us. We are drawn to engage with such people because we find the same lost vestiges within us. The tarots have always prescribed that the path to salvation is to embrace the strength with your failings. No one can hope to move on in life without confronting and accepting those demons.

So I have a choice here – I can choose to talk about them with hatred and hurt that they have caused me with their actions or embrace them as a part of my life that taught me lessons about myself. Of course, embracing does not mean exposing yourself to the same pattern of hurt again and again, rather learning not to repeat the same mistake and protecting your self from self inflicted flagellation and pain. My uncle recently told me – life is governed by a 90-10 rule. We have as little as 10% control over the things that happen to us but have 90% control over how we react to those circumstances. By managing our reaction we can therefore hold our fate in the palms of our hands.

So my inner dialogue can be – “No matter what circumstances are currently impacting my life, they are less important than how I react to them. Accordingly, I have a lot more control over what happens next than you realize. Instead of trying to demonstrate my survival skills or self-sufficiency to anyone else, I need to focus on strengthening my own foundations. It's not about what others think; it's about my integrity.”

I began writing this with a song that exemplifies LOST SOULS for me and so I end with it.

“How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.”
Roger Waters - Pink Floyd