Chickens: Crossing the Road

I want to say that I didn't start out all insecure and scared; synonymous with the turtle who has yet to cross the road.  I began in much the same way we all do.

I was born.

That in and of itself, was enough. I was born, breathing, screaming, a crying mess unto myself - but born.  Alive.

And now?  Now, at some point in my existence of experience I have been tainted. I have become accustomed to disappointed, to outrage, to upset and lies. I have tendencies toward mistrust and criticism. I blame myself and work consistently toward understanding those things that lie deep beneath the surface of my skin.

In some manner I always seem to return to this place. It adds a touch of comfort; of familiarity. And yet - I recall listing my faults, burning them accordingly and resolving to stop accepting such self-prescribed criticism. It is as Einstein referenced when he said, "A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving...(Einstein, p. 8-11)".  

I do receive.  Just what is necessary to become the next evolution of my former being.  The catch between are the efforts necessary to become that next evolved persona. I am stymied. 

My reflections speak to a time four years ago. My efforts protrude into the next decade, and, I might add, they are quite productive. The here and now is where I falter. The attempt to know more about others than I do myself. I became accustomed to defining the "norm" and counted on my misgivings of the self.  I have such a fond recollection of the power of self. My self. I truly feel that Webster did no favor to connecting words for the sake of saving on printing costs. In my mind, myself is two words. 

Two words. 

A pleasure versus pain motif. Nothing exists in one realm without the imparting of the other. The entirety of my point being that there is a formula to all of this.  The age-old adage about some chicken and some road.  Why? Why did that particular chicken cross that particular road?  

Because there is a longing to reach the places no chicken is supposed to go. Big, vast, desirous places that the individual being longs to explore for the sake of being a better person. The catch being that we don't know what that exploration of the soul may produce until we do the work for ... self. 

Einstein, A. (1954). Ideas and Opinions, based on Mein Weltbild. P. 8-11, http://www.aip.org/history/exhibits/einstein/essay.htm