My Impossible Quest

As I look back upon my life I cannot help but to wonder to where it has been in the last 30 something odd years.  To many thirties is somewhat young yet I do feel like I have lived a thousand years in my time.  Each morning when I wake I am faced with unanswered questions where answers are even bleak to see beyond the horizon.  To most my life is probably seen as the garden of floral beds with glorious lives scattered upon it; yet where I stand it is a view of constant anguish in which anxiety prevails. Throughout my life I have always sought after something more profound in life in which I can conduct my life free of scrutiny from adversaries of the things I believe in.  Now that I have a family of my own I tend to compromise more and stay focused on what makes them happy rather than what comforts me.

The divinity of having a child running around is glorious at its best; however, as I watch him play with such innocence oozing from this beautiful soul I do keep my constant eye on the things that I might do wrong to severe the angelic happiness that I bring to my son.  My hubby Isaac is a joy and such a pleasure to be with.  In the times that we have been together I cannot count any day where he showed any kind of displeasure in having me around as his other half.  He does his best to ensure that I stay happy and content.  But deep inside me is this lost soul in changeless pursuit for something more meaningful.  What do I really seek after? No one really knows nor do I really know what do I really quest in life. But what I can say is that throughout my life I have always been hunting a place to belong but really have not had the affinity to share the beliefs to any group or creed of people around me.  My non-conformist nature is what estranges me from the people around me.  I am the type of a person who regrets not a word that I utter when I am confronted with languid and vacuous opinion.  Though I tend to placate in order to avoid chaos, I lack in squelching what displeases me nonetheless. 

I have once attempted to discuss the things that concern me with someone I trusted and nevertheless was told by that person that I am a person who is in constant need for attention and love.  I have always pondered of what he meant by that? Then one day under the blazing heat of the summer sun, a thunderous lightning came roaring to wake my sleepy mind.  I have then evaluatedthe missing link of my constant quest of love and attention.  It was only then that a tiny beam of light came to brighten somewhat the anguish I have always felt all these years.  Looking back to my childhood, I have always been kept and raised in obscurity.  I was the odd child with the odd colour of hair and eyes being raised amidst the scratchy rice farmland. I spoke with strangeness that the rest of the children around me made fun of.  My mere existence was the main menu of constant prying in my mother's life.  There was not a time where I was welcomed with open arms by my relatives.  I have always felt the soul piercing stares that were upon me every time we were invited to a gathering.  I have always heard my mother the rarity that I was with her weeping with such sorrow to which my young mind could not even begin to fathom the cause of her constant sadness.  Though my mum showed no affection to me whilst growing up, I have always known in my heart that she loves me.  I was never kissed nor embraced by her instead I was always greeted with such coldness whenever I went to see her.  To this day these exposures to such malady in my early life still play a role in raising my own child.  I do tend to be overly protective of him and never allow anyone to even say a single negativity about him.

I perpetually remind myself to not ever pattern my upbringing in rearing my own child now, yet these experiences shadow me endlessly each time I am confronted with so much scrutiny.  I realise however that I cannot live my life from the past but merely learn from it.  However, it is the very core that ailing me when I find myself getting close to having any family attachment to my mother's relatives.  I do not know however ever if this explains my willingness to be apart from blood relatives, but one thing is most certain, I most envy those people whose family ties are intact with such strength.

Dahlia Allyson