Beginnings

Lone Wolf of the Steppes

Do the forces align so that I sit down to write and can actually create a quality post? I write a lot about writing, or have over the years, but my posts about writing get lost in the noise while random posts shine. I am not sure what makes certain posts shine while others fade.

I am not going to write this post with the aim of it withstanding the test of time and getting views for years to come. I’ve been listening to ‘Steppenwolf’ by Hermann Hesse and can relate much with the main character in that I have danced too little in my life. I’ve been an intellectual though not as much by extensive schooling, but by my own pursuits.

I am much detached from the popular culture as I stopped reading the trendy books and no longer follow the movie scene. I’ve read many New Age books over the years. My list of books to read continues to grow.

I do not read these books for knowledge or improvement. It is just a matter of fact that stories no longer entertain me like when I was a youth. Yes, I have become very detached.

I know I do not smile nearly enough, but the simple knowledge of that does not make me smile more. A part of me wishes for friendship as I have (beyond family) been very much alone. What a fun it might be to go off to a party. I know such things are not recommended right now.

I’ve walked alone for so long. I’ve dined at restaurants (before 2020) alone so often. Yet, I have had so few friends for such a long time, that I do not believe I will ever be that social butterfly who goes from party to party.

This was not the vibration I intended to write but perhaps it is a vibration very familiar to the introvert crowd. My roommate has just gone off to a party or something or the other. She is certainly an extroverted individual who has no problem making friends.

So many years I have been the Steppenwolf, the lone wolf. Wound up in my own formalities. I have a tension to me. A tension what wishes to release and dance. Granted I have written about being in the flow and at times I can very well write in the flow.

Yet, why do I not really dance? I listen to music and at times my head sways with the beat. I’ve taken a dance class years ago, in an attempt to enjoy exercising.

When I am alone in my apartment listening to music, why do I not dance? What audience, other than my cat, would critique me?

Why am I not enjoying life more? It is not like I am lacking in stability or forms of entertainment? Enlightenment isn’t really a goal for me either. I have all eternity to reach Enlightenment. What calls to me is enjoyment. I’m in a peaceful state so much of the time.

I talk to people and I am nice and sincere, but afterwards I realize that I forgot to smile. I realize this vibration I am writing from is very much influenced by ‘Steppenwolf.’ Soon after starting back up that book (I tried listening to it at least a year ago.) I was called back to Abraham-Hick’s vibration on Youtube.

Granted I do not learn very much listening to Abraham-Hicks. I’ve listened enough to get the basic zest of the idea (which is simple enough), but I do like listening to her. I like listening to Matt Kahn and I am not sure I learned very much intellectual information listening to him either.

I got the basic zest of both teachers and call on them to help me advise random internet goers who seem to be asking for advice. I’ve decided that it really isn’t so much the quality of answer you give those who ask advice on the internet, but that you answer sincerely.

Maybe I need to listen to a little more of Abraham-Hicks instead of writing this post further. Well, I tried writing. I kind of wrote. In September I was in the mood to write, but not October and now not November.

You know, there are some elements in this post that could make a successful post that would get views for years to come. I am sure the concept of the Steppenwolf (Lone Wolf) constructed properly could very well make a good post.

I am writing this post because I felt the need to create. The need to get my voice on paper. These words can disappear into the echos of time now. Though I would be very happy if they did get an audience.

Thank you to all that read this. I wrote this post in isolation to which my cat Jemma would very much object saying she is in the same room. When someone likes a post, for a moment I feel less alone. I feel understood, appreciated.

This might not be the height of my skill in writing. This might not be my best post in all eternity. Which is a huge contrast because oftentimes when I write a post I have felt it was the best I have ever written.

This is just a post from a feeling of loneliness as my mind reaches out to the concept of a reader, invisible through they will be to me. Don’t worry, I will weather the Winter well. Another Spring will arrive in good time.

Categories: Beginnings

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