Admitting We Both Have Lost Our Way

Thumbnail image reverently appropriated from Margery Gill's illustrations for What Did You Dream by M. Jean Craig

Being alone with myself is never quite as easy as it sounds.

Even though I crave to be alone, I often don't feel connected with the others.

I hear you, ego, whispering in my ear: ideas of fame and glory, and finally being loved.

Ideas of fame and glory and finally being loved. Wouldn't that be nice? If I felt that way? Especially since I know that I am. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to sustain the kind of feeling of being loved? 

What happens when you give up the chance at being loved? Once you realize that love doesn't have to do with that? 

I don't know what you really mean when you're looking right at me. Being wild and wise isn't what it used to be, it's not what it used to be. Being wild and wise is not what it used to be - not as easy it seemed. 

You don't really know anything. Neither do I, so I don't blame you. Wouldn't it be a relief if we could just say that - admitting we both have lost the way.