Resistance to the Mystery

Digging through some work on a metaphysical novel that I've restarted working on. I found some wording that is pretty clearly a conversation with Penelope, not sure when I wrote it. I'm copying it here to elaborate on.


Why am I so resistant to allowing all this [encounters with the paranormal basically] into my life?

I think it invalidates who I am.

Who you believe you are.

What else is there?

Who you really are.
 
Which is?
Can't help you there, we've all got to figure that one out for ourselves.

That's a big help. I feel lost.

THAT I can help you with. You're already on the path. 

 How do I know what it's supposed to look like?

It's not "supposed" to look like anything, it's whatever your process evolves into. 

 But this banal, day-to-day existence can't be all there is, can it? That's not very inspiring.

Then pick another direction.

 Which? I don't know where to go. I don't even know how to change direction.

 You do, you're just resistant to making the change. You're uncomfortable with change like that, you don't like the "inconvenience" it may involve. Sometimes changing direction hurts.

 Too true, unfortunately.

Exploring the mysteries of the Cosmos may not always be convenient Hon; but they're worth it. 

 Sometimes though it doesn't wait until you think you're ready. You don't always get to choose it, sometimes it chooses you.

Like Fate or Karma? But what if I don't want to?

That's the game love. Enjoy the ride! ;-)

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