Self-Actualization and What It Means

 

I have no idea what I’m doing. This is my mantra because I have the luxury of adopting it. Educated, privileged, and experienced enough to manage my well-being, I can self-actualize. But I’m not sure what that means. How do I accomplish this near enlightenment?

Our currency-based, materialistic society does not prepare us for what to do after we have reached a level of comfort that frees up time and resources. Many buy more “things” to fill the void while others work more and accumulate more money.

My question is, when the inevitability of death claims these people, what do they have to show for their efforts? Things? A money market? How is this a life well-lived?

Of course, these individuals may disagree with me, but I can’t help but think there are nagging doubts that follow them throughout their lives. Which leaves me with the obvious question of “what’s next?” I’m tasked with finding my way, and I have no fucking idea?

Right now, I’m part of an intentional community. I read Tarot cards for a fee. I offer life coaching services to help others find their ways. I’m very good at giving advice, of seeing what is best for my clients to reach their goals and aspirations.

I suck at doing this for myself, yet I only trust one person on the face of this earth to help me and I don’t know if he’s real. Everyone else, all the readers and psychics, don’t know what the hell they’re doing. Maybe I’m a snob. Maybe I’m too full of myself and my own talents to bend on this.

All I know is that I have guides, ones who have been tested, and they have never steered me wrong. Some are ancestors; some are from the star nations; and some are living, breathing humans with whom I communicate telepathically. They are wise, and they are very real to me. They look out for me.

Or maybe it’s me and I’m projecting. However, I do know that when I intentionally pursue those things that may be beyond my control, synchronicity happens. The needed event or the desired outcome occur without my intervention. When I pursue the frivolous, nothing happens at all.

For now, I drift along, ensconced in an inner tube of ego on the river of existence. I do go where the river takes me. I don’t question myself unless I discover a route that will capture me in stagnant waters. I do know I must keep moving.

Self-actualization is a waterfall. This is a strange analogy for most, but to self-actualize is to do the thing you fear the most: annihilate the ego. We define ourselves with labels of mother, husband, loser, or executive. We cling to these labels, terrified of the ambiguity this state of being.

My medication has allowed me to shake free of many of these labels, but it is taking a long time. I am shedding all the stuff that I have hidden behind, both internally and externally. Still, a year and a half later, I’m not where I want to be, where I feel I need to be to self-actualize.

I want to go over the waterfall edge some days and other days, I want to anchor my inner tube right at the edge and marvel at the height of the fall and the rough waters that wait below. One day, I will take the plunge, but today is not the day because honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing.

©2018 I.O. Kirkwood. All rights reserved for text. Image may be subject to copyright.

Women seeking Men: 45-55

Woman Seeking Man

Couldn’t wink my way out of a wet paper bag. Can’t whistle either.

Mentally unstable yet medicated woman of dubious wit seeking reformed bad-boy to love until death-do-us-part. Likes warm, sunny days and cool, misty nights. Likes tattoos, interesting conversations, bonfires with friends, conspiracy theories, and people. Enjoys working out, eating healthy, and cake. Detests fakery, beer-bellies, unkempt facial hair, fuckery, and people. Goofiness is permissible. Maestro at assembling IKEA furniture. No left-over parts. Charges hourly rate. Seeking investors. Not claustrophobic; plan to live in a converted van down by the river when retired. Benefits include 401K, health insurance, and sex. Home cooked meals, passionate arguments, and make-up sex negotiable. Must be able to use Oxford commas and semi-colons properly. If interested in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, please send resume and current pictures tagged on Facebook, preferably from friend’s recent gwendolynlferi@gmail.com. Will respond within 72 hours.

(C) 2018 I.O. Kirkwood. All rights reserved.

Narcissists: A Dime A Dozen

I was in a“relationship” for six or so years. He was temperamental, demanding, and unreasonable. It never occurred to me that I was reliving the original relationship with my mother, only with someone who could fuck like an animal.

Everyone on the outside would shake their heads and give me advice. To no avail, because there were lessons in the relationship from which I couldn’t be saved. But I was drowning, and the life-savers thrown would sink into the abyss of my own self-destruction.

I shudder when I think about the abuse I allowed. That’s right. I was a grown-assed woman and I allowed the unwarranted insults, the crazy accusations, the breakups, and the addictive reconciliations. I was on an emotional roller coaster that I had built for myself.

Everyone on the outside would shake their heads and give me advice.

Others saw it as my wasting six years of my life. My mother hated him with a virulence I’d never witnessed. She would withdraw from his presence in revulsion. She left a bar-b-que because he was there and blamed me. I discovered then that narcissists hate each other.

Let me explain what I know about narcissism based on my personal experience. They hate themselves. There is none of this “I love myself, and that’s why I only think of myself.” People who love do not engage in self-aggrandizing, self-serving behaviors.

Narcissists hate themselves. They never feel like they are enough. They tear down the people who embody what they want to be but don’t know how to achieve. They crave attention to validate their existences. And it’s never enough, because their methods and successes are hollow.

Narcissists hate themselves.

I almost learned the lesson in the first month of the relationship. He had “broken-up” with me, and I had walked away with no regrets. But he called. He wanted me back. He abased himself. I thought it was because he “loved” me.

I roll my eyes now, but then, his pleas were a huge stroke to my ego. I didn’t know that I would play a part in the dynamics of a text-book case of narcissism. I didn’t know that I would suffer an abuse that would destroy everything I believed about myself.

All the signs were there. He was sweet and desperate in the beginning, as if I was the only woman in the world. Then he would push me away.

I didn’t know that I would play a part in the dynamics of a text-book case of narcissism.

I’m one of the most faithful and loyal people I know. It sounds self-congratulatory, but this is my strength – and my weakness. I am an immovable foundation in my relationships. Loyalty, love, family and in that order.  It’s a principle that I adhere to because it’s something that I haven’t experienced even though I’ve always tried to embody these qualities.

I’m the kind of person to whom narcissists gravitate because I devote myself to making my partner happy. He turned this strength against me. His jealousy was unfathomable. A man would look at me and it was my fault. I was a lying whore because I had friendships with men. I thought these abominations were a sign of his “love,” because that was what he told me when he would “apologize.”

So, I took him back into my warm, loyal embrace. I would overlook his excuses, his absences, and his cowardice. I held onto the debris of every shipwreck thinking this “rescue” would be different. I tried to make this parody work. I lavished him with my love and affection always wondering why I wasn’t giving him enough to be happy.

I am an immovable foundation in my relationships. Loyalty, love, family and in that order.

I used to wear my heart on my sleeve. If you wanted to know what I was feeling, all you had to do was look at my face. I found it difficult to hide my thoughts. I felt deeply and still do, but in that “relationship” my feelings were used as a weapon to stab myself repeatedly.

I was susceptible because I was reliving my relationship with my mother in a never-ending cycle of self-loathing. As I look back on my own life, memories as early as the age of two reveal a pattern of push-and-pull. I had been “set-up” to despise myself as a lying, attention-seeking whore. By my own mother. As a toddler.

It’s true what the experts say. The narcissist will use every weapon to hold onto his victim. The phone calls, not only from him, but from his family, were incessant. I would arrive home to his truck at my curb; his cologne on envelopes contained three-page letters upon which he poured out his “pain” and “remorse.” He even wrote upon the concrete walk-way that led to my front door. In children’s sidewalk chalk.

I had been “set-up” to despise myself as a lying, attention-seeking whore.

When I left him, I felt hunted. I trembled for three months: mind, heart, and body. I changed my email addresses and my phone numbers. In the aftermath, I discovered that he had done things to hurt me that would only become evident weeks and months after the “break-up.” He wanted to make sure I’d feel his presence like a menacing shadow to the point of destroying my only haven.

I believe his addiction to me was genuine, but he is incapable of love. I should hate him, but I don’t. I know how to love, deeply. He couldn’t understand this depth if he wanted to and I pity him.

I believe people can be kind. Narcissists know how to be sweet and charismatic that first month or two, so I give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But the moment I smell a whiff of manipulative behavior, I disengage. It’s almost comical to see his or her face right before I disappear.

I trembled for three months: mind, heart, and body.

Today, I cry for the child I had been. I cry for the child stuck in a body that “adulted” on automatic. I also amaze myself. I love, deeply, despite it all. Loyalty, love, and family allow me to rebuild my haven.

This foundation within me has always been unshakeable and if it seemed contrary to my behavior in the past, it was only because I had given away my power to another.

The lesson learned? No one can take power from you. Only you can give away who you are.

©2018. I.O. Kirkwood. All rights reserved for text. Image may be subject to copyright.