👇🏿 ain’t got no time for that? press play for the radical radio recording ✨
is it true that i have lost myself, as i feel i have, or is this a story that is blocking my way?
is it true that i’m lost, or am i being changed by life, moved in directions i cannot (and should not) control? and yes, what about this desire to wake up wholly myself; this sounds reassuring, and comforting, though is this possible in a human existence where uncertainty, loss, and discomfort are guaranteed?
to be quite honest, this is a story that is blocking my way. i have been holding onto this story for a very long time. since what, april of 2017? that i have been washed and washed and washed again, against my will. that i have lost layers and layers of myself and my life, against my will. that i have been an unwilling and unwanted player in this game. that all of these things are happening ‘to’ me and not ‘for’ me. that i am a victim to this story, a victim to these circumstances. ooofff, what a realization, what a hard pill to swallow, what a humbling moment. could i be humbled over and over and over again. could i?
i am being changed by life, can i see that?
i am being changed by life, over and over and over again. part of the changing means the loss of my layers, part of the changing means the loss of lovers, of parts of my life, of ways of perceiving and being in the world. it has been more convenient to be the someone where these things are happening ‘to’ me. it’s more convenient to say these things are happening to me rather than through me, or daringly, for me. it makes convenient conversation to say these things in life are happening to me, look at me and pity me, have empathy for me, feel sorry for me. the other, though, might not gain me the same pathetic response.
to stand in front of others and say “these things in life are happening for me, they are happening through me, let’s look and marvel at the change taking place in my life, in my soul and psyche.”
that fills only my heart space, my ego space craves different attention, she craves the ‘poor me’ attention. it’s also easier for me to say that it’s my ‘ego’ who craves this attention. the greater truth of the matter, it’s me, it’s me who craves this attention. look at me, look at me who is going through these things, look at me who is being held against her will in the bosom of the beast. look! look at me! it is me, there is a part of me, who is craving and wanting and asking for this attention. there is a part of me who feels victimized by it all.
i ponder and contemplate waking wholly as myself, what exactly would that look and feel like?
is this a place to be, a feeling, a mindset, a moment (or collective moments), where things feel like they ‘click’? what do i mean when i say i want to ‘wake up wholly myself’, what does she feel like? what does this woman feel like in her body, in her heart, in her mind. where does she take herself in her mind, through her day, in her heart?
am i lost, or am i being changed by life, moved in directions i cannot (and should not) control. what would that feel like? what would that woman be like? how would that feel, to inhabit this new story:
i am being changed by life, i am being moved in directions i cannot and should not control.
i love you,
xxo ~k 💚
~ credit to ~ mark matousek for lighting the way to my own depth and discovery here