something about ego and death

I went home to see my grandmother and a few things happened simultaneously.

I was in a hyper bad mood and noticed how much of her was ego. I know it was because I was in a bad mood.

I didn’t understand why all of us had to grow up under the same system, because we have, and we did. And I had to break up with that system. But despite breaking up-

I also felt this overwhelming Love. It’s the most love-hate relationship that has defined my life, and probably the life I have going forwards.

But at some point I had to end whatever iteration of my relationship with my grandma was, and that was like a kind-of death. (Side-note, not on topic here, but I always wonder how many deaths a person has to experience, all the time, and the consequences of not experiencing this death are…)

But I wish there was a stage where I don’t feel like this when I have to see my family. Every time I see them a small death occurs, but there is also a sense of renewal. Maybe that’s what happens when a relationship lasts thirty-five years, the way it has with us.

This post isn’t that good, but I guess that’s a reflection of where I am with this. But I think it has something to do with choosing not to be inauthentic anymore. I feel like the price to pay for inauthenticity is too high, even if the result is that sometimes I do feel more than a few fractions of guilt.

I think what would have happened in the past is that I would have felt highly guilty. If I am a different person today I would go over with a fruit basket and probably quite a fair few cakes and also in the process feel terrible about myself. Also I realised what the longing was for, and why it was that I felt it. It was a separation that might be happening, that was going to happen. It’s the Separation that has defined me for much of my life, and in some ways is my Origin Story, and has been for some time.