I am so very open and broadminded in so many ways, ideas, concepts, philosophies. I can play devil's advocate to things no one else would. I could fully adopt two opposing mindsets to many concepts and fight them both fiercely, and completely believe and stand by both. Very ambi.

But, as extreme as I can be wonderfully broadminded, I can also be the complete polar opposite of that in certain areas, especially in the way I do things - narrowminded and staunch to the point of absolute ignorance and stupidity. It's just part of my makeup, and has always been that way. I'm loyal to what works, or what I'm proud of, or what I'm comfortable with. Going outside of set patterns or habits trips me up in a way that makes me think I probably have some sort of underlying autism or some crap.

In order for life to become easier for me, in order to go easier on myself, in order to go FORWARD and cease stagnancy, I'm going to have to start conceding to a few things when I recognize them. Essentially, I'm going to have to open my mind up to different ways of doing things, even if I hate them, even if I think I'm cheating or taking the easy way out or being disloyal, in order to see results. Unless I really think that the results aren't worth giving up how I get them. And, that's something that I need to really think about carefully and answer for myself, because it seems that when I pursue something, some sort of goal, and then hit a certain kind of roadblock or can't get to a result by the way I'm doing it or want to do it or think I should do it, I stop in my tracks entirely. And, that's it. Pause button pressed, until the roadblock is magically lifted somehow. Never mind that I could simply just walk around that roadblock or find a different way of getting to the same place, but I don't, and there ain't no one in this world who's going to even gently try to guide me around it and help me through without getting their head bitten off. I'll defiantly and stoically stand there akimbo, arms folded, staring at that roadblock forever if I have to. I was focused. This is the way I was going, this is the way I wanted to go, and this is the way I'm going to go, else I'm not going at all. Currently, I'm talking about music and a couple of other things, but it could be about almost everything including my entire approach to life.

It's great that I learn songs by ear. I have a wonderful talent for doing so. It's impressive, it's handy, it's cool, it's special, it's different. But, once the song gets too hard, or once my ear isn't good enough to get me past a certain point? That's it for me. That's all of the song I'm ever know until it gets easier or until my ear figures it out, if I even want it to after that, as I'll probably have moved on to another song by that point. Is it that I don't want to admit that I'm not a genius and musical savant as to why I don't simply get over myself and grab the tabs for the damn thing? It's not that I'm not killer resourceful and can't find the sheet music for anything that there ever existed sheet music for in less than five minutes.

Or, the tarot. I was about 11 when I became interested in tarot. Took a year or two of being interested to decide to really learn about it, and I found a great in-depth book at the library about it that I checked out once and read half-skimmingly until just a little past a quarter of the way through before it was time to hand it back in. Afterward, I stewed on the book then began to yearn and crave for it, but when I went back to the library to pick it up again so that I could really learn the lessons in it, the book was gone, stolen by a patron, never to be returned, and I didn't remember what the book was called, nor the author. And, no other tarot book that I found thereafter compared to what that book taught. Without that book, I essentially refused to continue to learn tarot. Years later, with the arrival of internet availability and Google, I tried to search for that book, using some of the key focuses I remember it having that would have made it unique. I thought I had found it, ordered it, purchased it, had it delivered. It wasn't it. And, because it wasn't it, I never ever read a page of the imposter book, even though it had similar teachings (unlike every other tarot book that I had otherwise stumbled upon since the library book). To me, that's just not okay, not good enough. So, as of yesterday, I now again possess another tarot book that I was absolutely sure was the one I originally found at the library back in 1991 or 1992. And, although the content and specific wording is exactly the same, from what I remember, certain things are not the same. There are a few things missing from it. It's a different publication or volume of it, or something. It's definitely not the same size or cover, doesn't have certain content, I think. So, am I seriously going to do what I always do and not even bother reading it? If it's not the exact same one, and it probably is, it's damn-well close enough to it, closest as I may ever get! Why can't that be good enough for me? After what's over 25 years later, can I not just get the hell over it, make do with what I have, and finally learn the effing tarot as I should have when I was a preteen? Even back in the early 2000s when I got that other imposter book, could I not have at least given it a bloody chance while still holding out hope to find the library book? In fact, that imposter book is actually listed in the goddamned bibliography of the definitely-or-almost-exactly-like-the-one book. It's like I don't want my mind to be swayed or poisoned or distracted by another way or else my mind with be forever tarnished.

And, I want to say that thinking this way is paranoia, but this has actually happened before. It's how I feel about my writing ever since I took a literature course in college and was forced to read a few books that I feel influenced the way I wrote forever, and I did NOT like the way I wrote from then on, but couldn't get back to the raw way I used to write. Was the new way bad? I don't know, I felt it wasn't coming from a place of complete authenticity, like something about it was conditioned and learned, too heavily tuned to read like the books from that course. Do I still write the new way? I can't even tell. I don't really write anymore, and I know I've lost much technical skill in the past several years or more.

Seriously, what's wrong with me? I'm going to have to open my mind up to alternate ways of doing things, or I'm never going to accomplish a damn thing that I say I want to!