Last night I watched Vera Farmiga's movie Higher Ground, based on Carolyn Briggs memoirs This Dark World. I had read the book, could hardly put it down, and was interested in seeing the movie, which I knew would never come to Marshalltown (which is strange being as the author works at Marshalltown Community College). The film was well done, though it left out a good portion of the events in the book, and as I thought about it, I could relate to Corinne . . . I think a lot of us could.
At a young age she found something she believed in and threw herself into, fully. Later in life she starts to question those things which she once found undoubtable. In the end she finds that she can no longer believe them, can no longer play that part.
I find myself in a similar place the last year or so. Things which I held as truth, I'm no longer sure of. I can't say that I'm no longer sure of who I am, I don't think I've ever been sure of that. After watching the film I felt restless. I drove around town listening to Adele and Lily Allen, feeling a strange nostalgia for something of which I was not sure. My soul longs for something I can not define. A definition, perhaps a picture of its character?
Who am I?
Myself is not something to be found, but something to be created, but what will it be?
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