missing superstition

I realise I miss being superstitious… I’m not talking about religion or horoscope or other such nonsense, good riddance.

I’m talking about four leaf clovers, picking flower petals and thinking “she loves me, she loves me not”, “making a wish on a falling star”, flipping a coin in a wish fountain, thinking that because something(s) happened many times when you wear a particular T-shirt that’s your lucky T-shirt and if I wear it again chances are for that to happen again :-)

forget me nots ep. 7 ~ finish what you started

There’s an enthusiasm about new starts – most of the times – I imagine. I remember for my self a joy and serenity in the possibilities that I could see in a new start, be it small or big, professional or personal.
Sometimes those possibilities seam like a huge projection, sometimes I suppose they are. Maybe sometimes specifically because it is a huge projection it gets so bitter when you fail to nourish that projection and the value that it had or could have had.
A feeling of shame can follow, resent, maybe loss of confidence, vulnerability… All of these are things we’ve learned to stay away from, block as much as possible. A survival of the fittest instinct makes us detect these as enemies and apparently we reject the source entirely. We’ve grown skeptic in a way, so much so that we hesitate to believe easily, we fear we’ll make a mistake and be vulnerable again, we fear it’ll be foolish or that others will think we’re foolish and we might loose more then there might be to gain.
So… probably denial or a weird state of tranquility in which we try to focus on something else, preferably something that will help us grow, in this world that promotes the strongest, in this soup à la Darwin, which is totally understandable actually.
Then, I suppose there are other reasons also, less dramatic or melodramatic. Reasons that get us sometimes to not be keen in continuing something, or to realise there’s no sense in continuing something. Sometimes we just don’t know how to continue something, perhaps overwhelmed, perhaps frightened, perhaps bored, perhaps eager to do something else, to find, learn and understand new things, new places. What ever the reasons, one can sometimes leave unfinished things on a shelve with the thought that it’ll be taken care of later or sometime, or by someone else or by itself.

I’m not proud to admit I save several such things on a shelve. And this series is one of them, ironically enough the last episode that I had announced, more then two years ago, had this title set then. I knew.
I realise sometimes it’s difficult to finish some things. But I reckon is better to stay away from developing a habit to not finish things.

A song I love has between the lyrics: “every new beginning comes form some other beginning’s end” (Semisonic – Closing time). While not EVERY new beginning HAS to come from some other beginning’s end, my realisation is that if you don’t really finish something, that possible new beginning might be getting just a part of what you could offer in your attempt to make the most of it, to value it as you might have hoped or projected at one point.

I recommend you check your shelves or perhaps clean your closet sounds more familiar. It can be liberating, sometimes at least. It could be a closure you never had or never offered to someone, an unfinished ensemble of a miniature airplane model, a project, a confession… whatever it is, it can retain un unfinished part of your self. If you’ve realised it’s best unfinished, make it official and leave the shelf free. You might use some more space for things you’re currently focused on, or would probably feel better to change the label by removing the ‘un’ prefix.