Finding meaning in irony

Last week while on holiday in Madeira, I wrote a check-in post explaining my 3 month absence from this blog. I made it all about the beauty of connection, of bloggers and readers reaching out to find meaning in each others words.
Unfortunately, the Island WiFi did not agree, and my post was deleted.
I couldn’t get over me writing something specifically for it to be read (instead of writing something off my system), and the universe giving me a big fat finger.
Am I overanalysing coincidence, or choosing to find meaning?

“Jasmine, it seems to me like you might be feeling a little lost.”

These damning words were spoken to me by my therapist a few weeks ago.
While it’s easy to preach non-attachment, I’ve been struggling with not having everything my heart desires: a healthy, caring relationship, a job that celebrates my every move, perfect health or even a smaller butt.
He went on to highlight the importance of goals that we attribute meaning to, such as this blog.
Posting regularly on here, doing some embroidery, editing my Youtube videos, they all make me feel accomplished when I can’t get that validation from my other goals.
And here, it is only I who is in control of achieving them!

“We cannot control people, places and things.”

I couldn’t control the WiFi connection in Madeira, I couldn’t control how my ex treated me, I couldn’t control how my body reacts to trauma. What I can control is how I weigh these things.
I was speeding the other day to overtake a truck, and got flashed by a speed camera. Instead of letting it ruin my day, I tried to be grateful that I got a reminder to adhere to speeding limits. Who knows, maybe that will save me from speeding another time and getting hurt?
I couldn’t find the right bus stop at the airport and walked the lengths of Gatwick at midnight until I found it. At least the walking kept me warm in the cold.
Instead of things having inherent meaning, I could find them some, even if it hurts.

“I’ve been through a lot, and I don’t know what to do with it.
You’ve been through a lot, and you do know what to do with it.”

There’s a really lovely moment at the end of season 2 of Euphoria where Rue reflects on choosing to give her pain meaning, and thus getting it out of her body like Lexi did by writing a play.
And because I can only communicate in movie metaphors, Kamala in Ms Marvel cheers herself up by thinking that changing one person’s life changes everyone’s life.
No, I will not solve world hunger by writing these posts. But maybe after years of posting, one person will read about my existential dread and feel a little less alone. I know I do already.

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