I am consumed by the essence of this delicious word, Eudaimonia. Eudaimonia is doing what we are meant to do; when we are self-actualizing, following our calling or our bliss. The pleasure of doing what you are meant to do, which is what makes life a good life. At the moment, it’s rather elusive for me.
For me, as a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP; see Elaine N. Aron’s masterful work), I have found this, this Eudaimonia, to be the area of my most confounding complexity. There are many dimensions to what makes me, well… me. As a rich, complex, multi-faceted, highly sensitive woman with a long history of abuses and excesses of every kind, how do I know, with certainty, who within me is the Spirit? Who within me is the Soul? Who within me is the Artist? The Writer? The Coach? The Poet? The Maniac? The Crazy One? The Passionate, Consumate Spiritual Seeker? The Warrior? The Wounded? The Ego ? The Self-Loather? The Pitiful? The Empath? The Goddess? The Healer? The Guru? The Inner Child? The Magician? The Wonder Woman? The Paralegal? The Play-It-Safer? The Bold Bad-Ass? The Dynamic Dream-Chaser? The Most Powerful Manifestor? The Co-Dependent? Which one is my Unique, Authentic Self?
I feel like my path is a chosen, emotionally-charged journey with vivid, brilliant imaginative overtones. This is my Holy Grail, and often, my curse. I get to choose – my nectar, or my poison. Or rather, my nectar AND my poison. I get to transform it. I get to use my own suffering in the name of my brilliance, and fuel it with all of the porous, and enormous, energy that comes from suffering. From baring it all. Bones and cracks. I cannot feel my fire when I deny my own darkness.