Walking Between Two Worlds

Shattering The Illusion Of The Good Life

I am done walking between the two worlds.

My whole life, this has been presented as the only option. Walk between both worlds, live in both, strive for greatness in both. Or choose one.
The fact of the matter is that there is not two worlds. There is just one: Mine.

The two worlds as explained to me are the red road and the white road, the old way and the new way, the ways of my ancestors or the ways of the modern world.
Its a useful tool to explain away a lot of the pain people in my position feel. An easy way to explain suffering.

But I reject it, this dichotomy between “our” world and “theirs.” Us and them. It’s not useful to me anymore, and thus it is cast from the heavens of my mind into the deepest pits of hell.

I have lived my whole life trapped in the indecisive hell of when to act a certain way and when to act another. As a simple example, how hard do I shake your hand? It is a sign of respect in the old way to let the other man have the stronger handshake, a sign of weakness in the white man’s way to defer to the other.
Is it right for me to seek vengeance against my enemies? Blood begets blood, which the white man says is evil, an everlasting cycle.

The truth is these are all illusions, ways to excuse my own behavior to myself. I avoid shame at all costs, and thus I codeswitch to avoid it, falling in line with the closest culture to me at the moment.

I resolve to forever let go of these shields against shame, and let the shame wash over and through me.

A little embarassment never killed anyone.
Never showing your true self is a repeated suicide.