Seeking, looking for, looking for myself. Who am I? What do I want? What do I like? How would you describe me?
I will say that I have never liked thinking about myself, talking about myself, having your attention on me. But now I wonder how much of this is because of AA, and how much was there before. Although, even in this wondering, aren’t I seeking myself?
I guess my own time spent thinking about myself is seldom spent in happiness. Often, often, if I’m thinking about myself, I’m being critical. This adds nothing to the universe. AA has given a framework to think about myself constructively, and I should use it more often.
I’m about to see the results of all the time I’ve spent trying to get over my fear of flying. Even as I engage in this quest, I feel it is kind of a selfish waste of time. I don’t know what I’d personally be doing with this time instead.
As I sit writing this, I hear my mother and Carole talking about vacations and travel. My mother is relating some of her experiences, along with the experiences of my grandparents, her parents. It all feels self-seeking from here. From here, on the ground.
I’m thinking I’ll learn something about myself from this. I hope I learn that I can. I may learn that I can’t. Or maybe I’ll end up just as mystified.