Amun and I decided to pursue Art full time. Full time as in to Live. Breathe. Study. Hunt. Pursue. Devour. Digest. Create. Produce. Embody……. |Art|…… Coming together and deciding on becoming lifelong students of Art was a big step in our relationship. Amun has been non stop Creating since we first got married 6 years ago. I am fully convinced that she is the next Renaissance Woman—as I have witnessed her maturation as an artist on a daily basis. I, on the other hand, have been dodging the commitment; both consciously and unconsciously.
Truth is, I wasn’t done with the world. I still had the desire to pursue, conquer, and “make something of myeslf” despite the physical, mental, emotional and psychological toll it has had on my being. I still had something to prove. I still had just one more thing to achieve. I still had the itch to prove my value as a man. My upbringing, the media, my military career, propaganda did a great job. They all had their particular way of convincing me I wasn’t enough.
My mind entrained on it, my nervous system absorbed it, my reality reflected it, and my actions confirmed my inner inadequacy— pushing me to go after all the things the world had told me go after in order to feel worthy. At 35, I finally reject all of it in whole.
As a person who takes pride in catching patterns and connecting the dots, I sure procrastinated on catching the pattern of feeling empty — or maybe I put it off to collect more data. A psychic denial born from chasing the American dream for so long and realizing it was all a lie. I didn’t know if I could live with the wasted time and effort.
At the core (apart from being an Artist) I am a scientist.
I doubt all until I prove it for myself. I need to experiment and experience things on my own terms. I have trouble just listening to others’ experience. The great double edged blade it is to be a rebel scientist.
I have to touch the hot stove to confirm that its hot for myself. You cannot convince me that that glowing orange coil will burn me. No warning or explanation will budge me. I must test it our for myself. In my own reality. The fallacy of childhood indoctrination is that for the natural-born doubter, life inevitably becomes a testing ground one must walk alone — even when that ground is riddled with razors.
And— I did just that. I tried everything. I can honestly say I did all that i was supposed to do. All that I was supposed to achieve that the system had promised would bring fulfillment and that final happiness. I turned this country upside down and inside out—only to look at the mirror one day and realize I ironically hollowed myself out in the search for fulfillment.
I became a hollow.
As the scientist I am, I can confirm that it was all an illusion—and a hollow one will become. Was it worth it? No…but also yes—as I am man of science. Or a rebellious, stubborn fool. Either way, data has been collected. Numbers don’t lie.
I can understand claim of men having a lower survival rate than women now. I’m blessed to have had a Creator wife by my side before the hollowing. If it wasn’t for Amun, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Probably being another gear deep in the machine; being extracted of the little life force I had left before losing myself completely.
My spirituality journey is now the Creators way. Truth is, I was scared before. Scared that I would miss out on something, somewhere, somehow—i don’t even know what that something was but it very much existed—like that demon you convinced yourself was lurking waiting for you to turn off the downstairs light before sprint stumbling upstairs to your bedroom as a kid. The fear of missing out made me turn from my Creativity. Art seemed like a waste of time in the system. I was resistant to all that had to do with pursuing ones true path. I created a false identity to mask over who I truly was. It became a chronic asphyxiation I learned to ignore—even learning to embrace the suffering as a badge of honor. I got used to breathing in the carbon dioxide—forgot what oxygen even was. It deprived my mind of fresh air, poisoned my thoughts, and clouded my judgement.
I left the military when i was 29 to pursue Art. I proceeded to put off Art for 6 more years thinking I was still missing out. I am now 35 years old. It’s not too late, but I accept that I could have started this journey sooner.
There is no use dwelling on it. I have surrendered to the path. The Artist path. A path that will invigorate instead of excavate. A path that gives dividends to my spirit instead of extracting it of taxes. I love Art. I love the learning process of Art. I love Creating from it. I accept that it has always been there since the beginning. In grade school, Art class was the only class I looked forward to. I don’t know why it has been so hard to admit this as being my core self—but it is. I enjoy Art. I enjoy Creating. Better late than never.
So—this is my Declaration of Incompetence. I, Numinus, have abandoned my Creative side and I fully take responsibility. I admit that the right hemisphere of my brain is not the most developed side. I admit that my Creative muscle is severely atrophied. I accept the consequences of years of neglect. I accept the rust, the cobwebs, the dust, the dilapidation. It is my own mess. I will tend to it with my head held high—restoring it into higher order. I accept. I will gain it all back— at full function and even more. Starting at Level 0 Level -1.
My True North is established. I am the lifelong student of the Arts. I am honored and grateful that, as a hollowed, I can Create a fulfillment in my life that will grant me the opportunity to one day call myself a former hollowed. Let it be written. Allow it as is. Let it be. So be it.
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