The mind, at least mine, is a complex maze and puzzle simultaneously where as I start to make sense of one part I’m left with the realization that said understanding makes me aware that the maze is much larger and the puzzle much more difficult than I initially thought.

I’ve been sitting on a lot of thoughts over the past few days. Part of me has ached to express them somewhere, and what better place than this blog? And yet… Part of me worries that I may not like what I write here says about me, and the progress I’ve endeavored to make.

At the top of the year, I made a decision to try and make changes in my life. To sort myself out in a way I hadn’t before, and to really try to better myself. Here we are, three quarters into that initiative and I find myself trying to gauge my progress on that front.

I guess the jury’s out.

I know, for a fact, that I have grown in some pretty important areas. And I’m proud of that. Extremely. I find myself to be a more confident, outgoing, and expressive person. In part thanks to the people I’ve met this year and inward strides I’ve made to slay the near-constant notions of doubt and self deprecation.

A book I’ve read (thanks again Laura if you ever read this) gave me a lot of insight into tackling the way my mind works. I think for large parts of my life I’ve tried my best to hide away emotions, to have an escape hatch of some sorts. Keep everyone at arm’s length. To never really, really try for something for fear of being mocked, ridiculed, or saddled with the public and broadcasted failure of my attempts at anything.

It made me a pedestrian in my own life.

Have I sorted out all of those feelings? I don’t think so, but I manage them far better than I ever have before. And the daring leaps I’ve taken have netted some interesting returns. Not all of them good, but all of them leading me down the path of being more of the person I aspire to be.

There’s a bittersweet nature to the last revelation, though. A strategy I’ve tried of late is to apply my analytical mind to my emotions; to workshop and source the reasons why I feel the things I’m not a fan of. To use that locked-on sense of curiosity to understand the thoughts I struggle with. To understand them. Maybe even do away with them.

I think my relationship with my emotions has just gotten past the honeymoon phase. What I mean by that is this. A year ago, if something happened that’d upset me I’d be upset. Today, through a similar progression my response was different. I found the progression to be upsetting, but I myself wasn’t quite upset.

Part of me was, but that’s the bittersweet part of this whole journey. I’ve come to realize that even if I completely manage to master my emotions while also being open with them, I’m always going to feel them to some extent.

So if I ever feel a sense of jealousy, anger, resentment, or any other range of emotions I may be able to sort things out. I may be able to understand why I came to feel that way, and be in control of myself to respond in a way I want to; where I’m not ruled by my emotions.

But I’ll still feel them.

They don’t just go away.

They never will, and I can’t allow them to if I’m to connect with myself in the way that I want. I suppose it’s the last truly naive thing I’ve ever thought was that at the end of this journey, once the sunrise came I would just have some kind of off switch to the feelings I don’t want to struggle with. And to an extent, I think I will. But not in the cinematic sense where it’s happily ever after. It’s more arming myself with the tools to continue to be true to myself in spite of those feelings, to shoulder them as I always had but not let them take the wheel.

That fight will never be over.

And it never can be, if I’m to enjoy the positive end of this journey. I’ve run from my feelings, from myself for so long. I’ve tried to hide away my truest thoughts, ambitions, and hopes. The fear of failure and rejection has had such a hold on me that I resolved to just never really trying. At least then, I could enjoy` the hypothetical.

That’s a hollow existence I just cannot accept for myself anymore.

And that’s not a new declaration. It’s one I said to myself back in January. I just have a much more robust and internalized understanding of the idea.

I guess it speaks to the true nature of happiness, at least as I’m beginning to interpret it. It’s not about climbing a valley and staying on a plateau for good. It’s about finding contentment and stability as you navigate the inevitable hills and valleys. To stay grounded when my head could easily be in the cloud, but also not bury myself at the base of the valleys and obstacles.

That’s the bittersweet part. That’s the rub. Is that a depressing realization to make? Is that the actual truth? Or is this some sort of way for me to allow myself to settle? I don’t think it’s depressing. It’s realistic.

Life is going to hit. Nothing’s going to change that. And life presents itself in myriad of forms. But how you let it affect you and how you respond is how you find happiness. There becomes this part of you that is impregnable. It will always be there, no matter what life throws at it; good or bad. And it’s who you are, and the peace you’ve made with and the appreciation for your life.

Growing that bad boy’s the key. I think.

It’s teeny. It’s tiny. But it’s there. Hey, little guy. I’m Albert, and I like to think I’m a pretty neat person. Tell me about yourself.