I don’t want to be a part of anything that makes right something by making wrong another.
I want to be a part of something that embraces growth, movement, holistic approaches to life. I want to be a part of something that takes a moment to question, a deep breath, a moment to ask… will saying this help anything? I want to be a part of something that takes that breath… holds that space… and remains deeply rooted in compassion and strength.
I want to be a part of something that embraces the shadow as well as the light.
I want to be a part of something that orients towards growth… that takes a breath and moves inwards towards personal growth… that expands and breathes out excitement, flow and clarity.
I stopped caring. About all the things I lost, all the faces I forgot… and all the stories that were washed away… splattered ink… red and all horns like the devil. I stopped dying. Killing myself again and over again… for the sake of asking the same questions again and again.
I stopped falling in love with falling in love.
Instead I opened a new page, wrote a new chapter, prefaced it and let it end on a cliffhanger.
I stopped falling in love with my destruction. I stopped falling in love with romance gone ugly and began to really ask what I wanted, knowing what I very explicitly do not want. I stopped to admire the flowers, the beliefs with deep roots, spirits of trees with tall branches.
I hit pause for a while and asked why I write the things I do. I hit snooze for a while and sleepily listened to the storm outside my window. I get up, woozy and unbalanced and get on because I must do something important to me.
People rush to cram themselves into 7am trains. I feel sad for them. There’s an implicit feeling of being in the everybody else is doing this train.
I like the couple of travellers who aren’t part of this routine because they smile.
I fall asleep.
Worlds sift, change and emerge.
I’m here. Hours fly by.
I candidly speak of Saturn and Pluto meeting in the sky like two opposing archetypes getting into the same boat as the day comes to a mountain moving, slow yawning close.
Words and realisations come through with clarity for me. I didn’t realise Mercury could be on my side but there goes my propensity to personify. I know planets don’t take sides.
Someone asks me twice in the same day if I’m vegetarian. I say no. I prefer to avoid eating meat but I’m not a vegetarian, I explain.
I know the layers of my choice and the whys of them but what really matters is that I like the feeling of my choices.
And as the crazy week comes to a slow meandering, soft landing… I remember I cried three hours straight this week and felt raw and crystal clear the next day. Kind of like waking up with a clarity you can feel in your body. Surprise took a gentle hold of me as I observed this. It was like I cleared out the debris.
People don’t remember what you say to them… but how they felt with you. I remember thinking I’ve changed. For the first time in my life I gave myself permission to cry without forcing myself to stop. I hear my grief and I know deep down of its existential roots. Meaning made out of life’s events… and within them, my capacity to feel… surprises even myself. It never emerges until it really emerges… the human body’s capacity to carry and hold so much grief.
Briefly I encounter the notion of quitting this life again. It passes across my mental landscape like a tease on the breeze, gone the next day.
I remembered a lovely conversation in the park with the light dappling through the leaves as the very cliche phrase I was going to use to remember the feeling.
Cliches are shortcuts.
Respect. I felt so much respect for the wisdom of those here before me and the work they’ve done and continue to do.
Ten years from now, I will remember this as one of those weeks.
This is a Buddhist expression. The way I understand it… is that our minds are ferocious creatures. Abraham Hicks says that all subjects are really two subjects. And I feel that Taoism teaches the meaning of duality without actually teaching it. It’s not a philosophy in itself but a path of integration. Ironically, the moment we begin to philosophise on what it is, we’ve lost it. Nothing is more about a way of being in harmony. Alan Watts writes eloquently about duality – how the religions that have shaped western history, are dualistic. It was my first understanding of duality beyond the knowing of something by what it isn’t. But this pithy phrase catches it too. Sometimes, its fun, to go deep… but sometimes we can get tangled in the haywires as well.
There exists in me a desperate yearning sometimes that I wonder if it exists for others. It is not that this thought soothes me… but that I find the threads of grace in the knowing that… I’m not alone in this. There’s a kind of grace in the shared stories and histories that can exist and intertwine between our worlds. There’s a kind of grace, in seeing you as you are.
She said… what are you proud of?
And the word pride seemed too yellow, too much, too uncomfortable… to frame my words through this lens. I did try… and when it came to the page in front of me and I, I discovered this was my relationship to pride.
Nothing ever dies. Although, I speak of death candidly. In this context, I think, death simply re-animates, meaning. Takes something apart, disintegrates it… and soon enough, it will be something else. It will coagulate again… be part of something else, be different in its new expression… be more. Renewed.
Nothing ever ceases to exist… nothing… what does this word mean? No thing? It seems ironic, that here I am really referring to everything.
Repressed pride in my shadow still exerted its influence over my life. The obvious… felt like a moment of realisation, long in coming… and with it, memories of childhood, now infused with sadness and acceptance.
The way you see someone may not be the way they see themselves. Is it the years that are bringing on this sense of expansion? Or that I’ve arrived at a point where the pain of not expanding this exceeds the growth pains?
I’m not averse to the pragmatism of life… or the practicalities of reality… when in rhythm, I enjoy them greatly… like the making of a meal and the maintenance of a sense of structure… for the purpose of joy and clarity. I love structure when it serves me, when it works for me. It has been a joy to re-learn what structure means to me.
Some ideas haven’t blossomed and come to full fruition yet. Give it time. And in the meantime… find joy and daydream away. Because when the ideas do ripen… the action and the manifestation of them flows effortlessly.
I am feeling this decade come to a close. It was an intense decade for me and I wonder if I will experience this level of intensity again in my life, or if, it will always be the darkest decade of my life… with its lessons and beautiful moments but also its pain and darkness. I’d rather like to hope so.
I don’t feel like I have given up anything that matters… but I have given up a great deal of what does not. I really don’t know what the future holds and I don’t really… care to know… yet… like growing fruit… it hasn’t ripened yet… but I can feel the seeds have been planted, and what do you do… but tend lovingly to the watering and growth of what you have planted? ❤
2019, I am proud of:
– Quiting my role/job/work at the end of 2018
– Putting uni on hold at the end of 2018
– Spending 4 months in Spain
– Spending 6 weeks alone in Peru
– Getting a tattoo over my scars (nearly a decade long decision I finally commited to)
– Showing up on the yoga mat every day
– Commiting to meditation
– Dancing my traumas free
– Having the courage to show up to be seen
– Letting go of shame
– Letting myself cry – often
– Letting myself feel the pain fully
– Finishing uni / final portfolio
– A new role/job and work bringing and encouraging growth and expansion
– Confidence, Integrity, Alignment, Empowerment
– Acknowledging needs and boundaries
– Exploration of the esoteric
– Deepening yoga practice
– Continued commitment to meditation
– Courage, showing up, embodied dance
– To love my work and all that I do
– Flow and creativity
– Deepening roots, classical music, L.mus.A
– Seeking new ways of working with music and its connection to the emotional body
– Travel fund
Books I read in 2019 for which I am grateful to, in shaping my thoughts, inspiring me and inviting growth:
The Road Less Travelled – M. Scott Peck
Awakening the Heroes Within – Carol S. Pearson
Blue Truth – David Deida
The Magic of Thinking Big – David J Schwartz
The 4 hour work week – Tim Ferris
The Richest Man in Babylon – George S. Clason
The Law of Attraction – Ester, Jerry and Abraham Hicks
The Instruction – Ainslie Macleod
The Holy Wild – Danielle Dulsky
2020 Goal: Ikigai
To wake up fulfilled and to enjoy a sense of warmth for the day ahead. To fill the day with beautiful moments and reasons for being.
What a paradigm shift feels like – when the past doesn’t determine the present. When the present doesn’t determine the future. When the present is what it is… but the perspective shifts drastically. When you allow yourself to step off the tracks someone else put you on and you thought you had to stay there… going in that direction. When you allow yourself to allow the next thought… to be a complete shift, from the previous one. When you allow yourself… to throw a chink in the linear conception of reality… in the linear mode of thinking. Is what a paradigm shift feels like.
When it isn’t forgiveness, it is love. Loving the part of you that is hurt, that wants to withhold love, that wants to hurt back. Compassion is saying all those things, to the ghost of other people’s past selves. Compassion, is asking, will saying this, in reality, help my relationship with these people today? No. Then I will not say them. Why do I want to say them? Because I am hurt, I am re-experiencing my pain and I want them to know what their words and actions feel like. But today I do not choose to hurt with my blatant honesty over the past, because to hurt them, I must also continue to hurt myself. Compassion… nobody said, nobody told me, that compassion can be this, choosing to love, the part of you, that is hurt, in those moments when you cannot love those that hurt you, in those moments that you’re struggling with forgiveness again, compassion is love for the places that you are hurt.