#10.3.2018

why do I put it there? alongside all the things I want. all the things that shine a light in my baby eyes. why do they begin to signify it and it, them? as if they’re all folds of the same oceanic tenderness. collapsing into one another.

Being right here now, feeling all that I’m feeling fully, is like trying to feel all the sky above me. It leaves me with eyes wide in a blank taking in the streamed traffic lights spotted with subtle heart attacks of red glare and black cement.

But I’m surrounded by so much goodness and the love I feel from my mom and my sister is a flower garden in the morning and there’s a baby pink drape of florals hanging from my closet door and I’ve got so many beautiful gifts and a fuzzy animal to take care of and nurture. My wooden furniture catches the light with hidden cherry roses and I’ve got books to read and vegetation outside to breathe from, good coffee and a cosmic twin to share it with, a room all to myself and a good home to live in, good food to eat. I’m just in a pool of gentle goodness. I have so much. I can yield. I can breathe deep.

I’ve been wanting to crank out resumes and land a job and start earning money and start feeling together because I haven’t been wanting to trust and let go. To make this a voluntary act of free falling. I’ve been trying to control the appearance of my progress so that I could feel safe and in control with the way life is breaking through me and making me softer and more tender and alive. Because I don’t want to face that there are things I may never know fully and that one of them is my own future.

I’ve been pressuring myself to do things that I think I should do as evidence of me making progress but I think that’s just another one of my perfectionist ticks where I always have to be evaluating myself and meeting my own impossible standards. all these goals I’m trying to meet land as wretched notes on my ear because there’s no surrender in them or in my action. I’m just forcing myself to look like Ive been progressing the way I think I should be progressing by putting importance on things that would show those outward results that my perfectionism would like to see. What comes first always is to be here now. There’s no other time where I can come alive. There’s no other place where the answer, the strength, the trust that I need can come from within me. Instead of pushing myself through the things I’m trying to get through, I’m going to have to forgive. Forgive myself for feeling scared and paralyzed and small. Forgive myself for having shamed myself for being where I was and still am and for hiding myself away as much as I could because I couldn’t stand to be judged by the world. Forgive myself for running away. For not being willing to fail. For not being willing to be vulnerable. For not being comfortable in uncertainty. For not wanting to boil it all down to here and now where everything happens. For not being brave. So I forgive myself. I release all of it and release what has gripped me for so long and what has kept me numbed and asleep and safe from being here, now. I can be brave and here for the moment. Be here for myself. Stand in not knowing and trust.