I don’t deny that a person’s first life is fraught with challenges and difficulties. I remember countless times of wanting to chuck it all in when I was living mine.
I remember trying to find myself, as if it were yesterday. And with the memories come the dark emotions (fury, despair, angst and hate). Yes, I can still get in touch with and stir them quite easily. That’s why I tap them sparingly. Such dark energies are not meant for everyday use but for specialised works.
However, not yet a year into my second life, somewhat adept at working with my emotions, I find myself facing an unexpected challenge.
Now I question everything.
I look upon my creation, me, and I see so many flaws. I definitely was no artisan in my first life.
As I examine every detail in preparation for what I intend to be my greatest work, I wonder whether I should scrap it all and design something completely new and unique. Or, should the few well crafted bits be grafted in. Surely my earlier works weren’t complete dross? Or, perhaps they were.
Have I gained enough experience and skills during my first life to make this second better?
I’d like to believe so but honestly, I’m not so sure.
I’m stuck on the horns of a dilemma. I will be a year old in September and I have no choice but to create. It’s the natural order. However, I currently don’t have a tangible blueprint of what I that looks like.
The only piece of knowledge I have to cling to when my fears threaten to paralyse me is that whatever I create must be of service.