Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Write something AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL (10/02/14)
- TITLE: Ego driven (The human condition)
By Trace Pezzali
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(The human condition)
PART ONE – Identity [each aspect seeks its worth]
ARDENT INSECURE PERSONALITY
I loved that delicious stage of childhood innocence and wonder. My imagination set on adventure, exploring far-off mystical lands and mythical creature. This dreamy child was readily accepted by those her age, if being appreciated for her talents is a gauge.
With high school came the shock of being publically mocked. Weak in my shame, popularity became my aim, to the disregard of study.
Into my twenties I walked with a charming hello. Pitifully pleased if a man with his eyes should follow my movement, for that meant I’d made an improvement. Life a performance, and I at times loud, dramatic and ribald.
I’ve flailed a long time in limbo, so many paths did I try to follow.
OUTGOING DARING VIVACITY
I'm fortunate to have passion and energy, yet also impulsively foolhardy in striving to be happy - oft at the cost of my dignity.
Addiction, and promiscuously itinerant: these lies that I believed most excellent and pleasant made me morally bankrupt, insolvent.
Risks I took have consequences still. Tragically, in specific aspects, they always will.
CREATIVE, ADMINISTRATIVE, SCHOLARLY ABILITY
I list the ways I’m naturally competent. Admire, please, how gifted and intelligent I am. I seek fame, acknowledgement and attention for each accomplishment. I’m overly concerned about your opinion, aware that comparative to the best I barely rate a mention.
SUSTAINING FADING BODY AND BEAUTY
Wasted time spent lamenting over wrinkled skin and pigment, hating imperfections apparent.
I judge myself on how skinny I am and turn sideways often to bewail my tum. To condemn myself as ugly - rather than see beauty - is a fallacy that robs me of appreciation in the present, and sanity.
In reality, vanity is insignificant, and time on the flesh a brutal agent.
Just look at my past and the destruction to self I rendered! Tears I’ve shed I could have prevented. Instead I’ve instigated and tolerated and pretended.
PART TWO – Judgements [and not just my own]
Every day my ego makes strife. Self-importance takes hold and I defend against what I’m told. At times my heart is distant and cold.
Of sacrificial love I’m errant, for my armour will accept no dent. Slights rise and ferment as I breed on resentment. “This insult I don’t warrant!” Criticising others, I vent the offense.
Now demons of enmity have a stronghold, for my self-focussed idols of burnished gold pay for the evil spirits that rent my soul.
Should I not be concerned whilst I’m alive of what awaits me once I’ve died? Though I strive to be loving and kind, to improve my mind, atone for past deeds maligned and every time I’ve lied, inherently I’ve failed.
So when I approach God’s judgement seat, I’d be chaff separated from the wheat. Hell is a furnace from which I can’t retreat. I’m helpless on my own to avoid this heat...
PART THREE – Faith [It’s own journey]
Fourteen years I strayed from the Truth (for I knew God in my youth). An incomplete picture of the Holy Spirit was relayed and an element of why I strayed, but for each small step I’m accountable. I went on impulses to avoid ‘regret’ yet those are the choices I long to forget.
At eighteen I began to search what spirituality meant to me. Partial truths explored, falsehoods taken on board, to the unseen realm I opened doors.
In the framework of creation, not Creator, providing, essentially I was allowing my own moral compass to set the course, not recognising this as a fallible resource. Fleeting peace at best, the rest of the time: troubled, restless, aware of emptiness.
Oblivious to the darkness that had descended, unaware how far deception extended, I couldn’t hear what anyone said to warn me against where I was headed.
Then one day I was compelled by the Holy Spirit I’d quelled to ‘do something holy for Easter’, unaware God was about to deliver me from the fate of my sinful nature.
Drama unfolded before my eyes: Jesus laboured under excruciating pain.
The burden was my sin.
Realisation left me slain.
And then with a physical shock
my senses were flooded with the love of God, my heart extended.
To this one moment begins the melody of my testimony, freedom from iniquity, and the promise of eternity.
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