Right now I need to withdraw and focus on one or two central aspects of my life that contain a lot of me... since so many parts seem to have been drained. By concentrating on my work and my music, if I can, I will be productive and creative, and slowly regain the energy it takes to support my other, wider passions, interests and peripheral dabblings.
The damage is extensive but not fatal or permanent... the paths in and out of my heart, my soul, are littered with wreckage, mostly recent, but some older memories are probably stuck under one or two awkward pieces still.
By trying once more to live simply, which will be an effort in itself, I can gently pry up the damaged parts of myself and examine them, identify them, and clean or repair them. I can return them to their rightful places, if they have them, or grind them up for raw materials to make new, useful tools for future use. By keeping my eye on the basics, I can keep generating a small surplus of energy to perform these tasks, and as some of them finally start to yield to gentle persistence, the result will be further sources of energy to be invested in the work.
As a result, at some unknown inflection point in the healing process, a critical mass will be reached where it no longer seems to take effort, since there will be less to work on than I have energy for. This means there will be energy left over for me to enjoy, and experiencing that is like having a fire hose turned on inside me, a main line to the power plant, a force of nature that can be tapped to create whatever results or fuel whatever processes I desire.
The funny thing is, I can still sense the presence of that force in me, I can touch it, look at it... I still own it. But I cannot consistently take it for myself, for my own purposes, quite yet.
So until then, I must live in this cocoon, on a diet of predictability and friendship. It is the only way to eventually cast it off and rebuild, rediscover, and reinvent myself.
© Huw Powell