I don’t write for other people, at least not on purpose. This is my reflective place, the only place that I really feel like I can be me. It’s still not quite all of me, there is too much fear to have that but it’s closer. Connecting is hard in conversations and writing feels natural, there is no one to impress and I can uncoil myself onto the page. It feels like a dance I sometimes get into, trying to meet the expectations of everyone I care about. I guess we all do this. It helps to take a step back, I have learned that my first thought is usually emotion and behind that is habit and further back, usually very far back, is wisdom. The big picture that provides ques about being responsive instead of reactive. That place that doesn’t try to convince anyone else that I am anyone in particular. When I scatter words on the page, I like that I can release that tension to make sense. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but me. Only then does it feel free.
I haven’t released that fist of control in other areas. I still can’t sing freely, even when I am alone, I feel aware. I yearn for that state that is neither aware or unaware, just flowing and natural. I catch a glimpse of it and some days it’s more frequent but I still hold on so tightly to my beliefs. My understanding of the world that is defined by my experiences and choices. It is hard to move past that. When I was a kid, I felt the tug of expectation but the stronger pull was wildness. The desire to run as fast as I could, singing at the top of my lungs and spilling onto the page without constructing thoughts before hand. All over the place. I was told that I had to keep it together, eventually make a plan, be aware of other people and their expectations, to try not to rock the boat or shake things up too much. The more I heard it, like we all do, everywhere, the structure becomes ingrained. It is harder to reach that creative state and push past the edges, remember that opinions are just opinions even when they are opinions about ourselves. I remember and then I forget and the creative process is a place that I need to get to, instead of just my way of life.
This is what I want to change. The freedom of not caring, not going wild of course. Not caring in the sense that definitions become looser, personal reality is impacted and intentions are clear, even with the simplest of actions. Kindness is a fundamental ingredient and my starting point. Kindness with myself, with my actions, creations, communications. I am so grateful for being able to come to this digital home and share, reflect, look back and see how far I have come and remind myself where I always am, if I care to truly see it.