The seed of discontent did not lie in specifics, but rather in a general discontent that manifest in almost every area of my life. A low grade depression, low enough in the background to allow me to function day to day, to even smile and laugh, but high enough to signal on the inside, I was in some type of distress.

To the outside world, I looked good. I had a husband, owned a home, had a few good friends, took care of pets, raised a family, worked at a job to add to the household income. All looked well and as I thought it should from the outside. This is what success looks like, right? I had arrived.  I had everything in the equation of what society deemed as successful. I had everything I thought I wanted.

Except. I was depressed and I was lost.

My internal world felt very different from my external world. I had created the picture perfect life, and was dying inside trying to maintain it all. My life was built on a concept, on an idea, and an ideal of which I had not plugged myself into the equation. I was living an illusion. Deluding myself every step of the way. Buying into a version of happiness, that was contrived, that had little to do with authenticity. I was not the tree, rooted in a solid foundation of truth and natural law.

Somewhere along the way, I had de-railed. I was on autopilot, following a prescribed ideal of the evolution of a human being living in this society.

How much unravelling did I need to go through?  How far back did I need to travel to the point of departure from my true nature?

There I stood, at the edge of the known, beginning the painful process of pulling out one thread at a time for examination. A process in which I had no idea of the length, height or depth of the terrain I would be exploring.



Photo courtesy of Mark Harpur via

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