I was feeling okay this morning. Had a great cup of tea. Talked to a friend. Read some of my cherished childhood novel. I then started reading The War Of Art by Steven Pressfield + was loving the butt-kicking that he had spilled all over its pages. I was feeling inspired and invigorated and wanting to create and write and make this world a bit more colourful and hopeful. I then got to a chapter entitled "Resistance + Fundamentalism" and that sinking feeling came. He was right. So right. And it made me feel sick. I have encountered a lot of fundamentalists in my life. And in recent years where I am seeing things more clearly, I feel sad for those who are living with so much fear.
After reading this chapter, I felt the urge to create drama with someone close to me, I could feel myself getting riled up inside. I could feel the facts and the anger swirling around together ready to pounce. And then I was hit with a wave of sadness, Steven talks about how the fundamentalist fears freedom. How we worry about saying or doing something wrong, something that will get us kicked out of the group, of our spheres where we feel we belong somehow, the places where we feel somewhat understood and we have a common goal towards something or a point where we can relate with each other. We all look the same, talk the same, think the same. This feels safe. And anything other is the enemy.
It saddens me because I used to think like this. I used to be scared of my own freedom. Of my own voice. Of my own abilities. Pressfield talks about how much easier it is to remain in those circles than to really stand for something. How it feels easier to believe that everything once was perfect and now it is all bad and fallen and evil and we can just wait until we die or are rescued from this world so we can enter paradise. The real work is believing in hope. Believing that we can be co-creators with the Divine to make this world a more peaceful, beautiful and safe place every single day.
People will always be scared of change. Of people and things that are different. But what could possibly be more beautiful than us all united as one, every single colour, gender and shape. All fighting for more love, more peace and true freedom. Thats the cause. Thats whats worth fighting for.
Alienation and division is what caused wars and enemies and destruction. We can run hard and make this world a better place together. I believe this. I truly do.
To stop wasting time discussing who is in and who is out. Who can be loved and who must be reprimanded or put in their place. This is FEAR talking, not Love. And everyday we have a choice, are we listening to fear or drawing strength from Love?
Not the mushy, "you complete me" love.
But the Divine, messy, human, "I believe in us" kind of love. No more wasting time with fear, lets fight for more Love. You have a voice, you have the capability to do this. We're unstoppable together.
Lets fight like hell for whats right.
The memory has been swirling around in my mind, it felt like a pretty significant moment but when it came to it, I didn't know what to say, what to do. You wrote on the back of some piece of paper and handed it to me - I was so curious I looked quickly and what was written surprised me. It said "Will you tell me about God?" I remember going to your room and sitting on your bed, its not clear in my mind what I said. I was really mad at myself because I felt I didn't come across well or how I meant to.
I sometimes wonder if you remember that moment. I wonder why you asked the question. I think the reason its stuck with me is because what I would do or say now has changed so much. I know less and I think thats maturity. I'm still wondering about it myself, God, existence, all of it. It would probably terrify my 17 year old self to know that I don't have all the answers.
I've had a few mystical experiences. I've felt what I would call God's presence. I've seen beautiful and incredible things, but I'm not sure about a lot of things I used to believe. I cringe when I think about some of my behaviour, my opinions. I had a weird vision of what it meant to be a good girl. I was so scared of disappointing people. My mum. My dad. (Still feel like I'm trying to make him proud of me.)
L, you and I were never the best of friends but I always thought so well of you. I admired your love for the arts. Your intelligence astounded me. At times I felt intimidated. I related to you in a lot of ways, and yet we were different in a lot of ways.
I'm not quite sure what my objective of this letter is. I just wanted to reach out somehow. To let you know that like you, I am figuring this out. And I'm sorry if I ever hurt your vision of God. Because these days I am unsure of a lot. Most things actually. But it turns out it is really freeing. Really truly freeing.
I don't pretend to know the truth of the cosmos. I don't. Truth is none of us do. Its strange how sure some people seem to be. I think its BS now. I trust more easily - those that can say "I don't know."
Honesty is the most important thing. If you can't be honest, you can't show up with the truth of you.
I offer you my rambling thoughts, in hopes that they'll meet you where you are.
P.S I still have that note. I found it cleaning out some things. It made me smile. Sending love.
"I don't understand. She hasn't even had anything serious or bad happen to her. She has people who love her. I think she does it for attention." Lilly said looking at me in total confusion. "She has acted up for years. You have a reason to be sad Stacey. She doesn't. She just doesn't have an excuse for her behaviour."
Part of a conversation I had with a friend over a year ago, it still comes up in memory. And it makes me cringe - because so many people think this. And so many live in shame because they feel they don't have a "reason" to be feeling the way they do. No specific tragedy in order to allow them to go to therapy. Or ask for help. Or take meds if that is what helps them.
A different friend, a different conversation. Teri was telling me about how bad her panic attacks have been. How hard most of her childhood has been. After realising she had been telling me so much about whats going on in her heart, she looked at me embarrassed. She said something to the effect of "I don't pretend to know what real grief and pain is - you know better than anyone." While I do not wish on anyone losing a loved one. It makes me so sad that others struggle in the quiet, ashamed they don't have a "reason".
I heard of yet another suicide this past week and it broke my heart. So much death and pain. Being quiet about it is just doing no favours to anyone.
We're human. We feel. This world is a messy place.
You are allowed to ask for help. To go to counselling. For the better part of four years I went, and it was the best thing I ever could have done.
I am not out of the shadows, I'm still in the middle. Seeing more darkness than light most days. But I still try see the light, as much as I can.
Learning not to worry about what people think of my process. Or the continual, never-ending thought of being a huge burden on those who care about me most.
I am with you.
I am for you.
I am in this with you.
You are not alone.
It is going to be okay.
Comedy. Moving my body. Unfollowing people. Music, happy and sad.
Some things that are helping me.
I love you. We are going to be okay.
You are actually a really annoying person to keep company with. I'm just not able to keep up with you, no matter how hard I try. Your demands and standards are high and lofty and unattainable for any sane human being. Life is not enjoyable with you around. So, I'd like to thank you for trying to help improve things, like life and relationships. I can no longer let you stop me from doing the things I really want to do. In order to go all the way in - it is going to be hard and messy and not always safe. Thanks for wanting me to be the best and do the best, but thats not how I want to live - if it means never stepping out, never risking, always calculating. Always weighing pro's and con's, forever stuck in fear of failure.
Vulnerability and Truth and Courage are never tidy, but they are needed to live a life that is truly life. Now you can go, perfection. I won't be needing your guidance. You are too pushy and high maintenance and mean and I'm tired. Tired of the anxiety, tired of the constant looking over my shoulder. You and I are done. It's scary but I have a new friend, her name is Risk. She's dangerous and messy and a lot of fun. She helps me let loose, encourages me to sing loudly, to dance wildly and to live more courageously. Perfection you're so put together and incredibly elegant - but you're boring and flat and you don't make me feel things. You don't invite me to dance, you just criticise my attempts or keep me from making any.
I want to dance, wildly and awkwardly and beautifully - I don't care how it looks, I care how it feels. To be alive and risking for love and abundance. I'm messy, I'm human and I make mistakes. I want to make a few more if it means going after what i really want, what I really feel. Thanks for trying to make me whole, but I've learnt the freeing yet hard truth: I'm whole without you. I repeat: I am whole without you. Sure, you are often what people want and expect. But you're not what I want. You're not what i need. I want risk. I want love. I want Love to risk for me. I love beautiful things but that doesn't mean perfect. And often beautiful means imperfect and messy but fully alive and fully present. I have wanted to do and try so many things and you've stopped me, telling me I'd look like a fool. And sure I may look like one, but I at least want to try dance, it will probably be awkward but I have a feeling it will feel like freedom.
Life isn't about measurements and rulers and carefully trying to plot out the whole story. It is about letting my body and heart feel something and going with it. I've befriended trust. And learned that includes me. I have great instincts. I am worthy of trying and failing and succeeding and dancing.
I want to be open, wide open to the wonderful possibilities of going after that which sets my soul on fire. I want to be two feet in, to learn to let go of the strong hold of the ground and soar up into the clouds. Where things aren't often certain, where you can't measure how well you are doing - you simply just be and that is enough. I am enough, enough all to myself. I don't need you. You are not the standard my heart has set. Sun has set, chapter has closed. Thanks, but no thanks.
I used to cringe when hearing people talk about things like self-love, or putting your oxygen mask on first, and then help others. We are taught and shown you have to put others above yourself, you give and give and the last few scraps are left for yourself.
Still learning and growing.
But the more I lean into loving myself, eliminating negative self talk and truly being kind to myself. I have so much more to give of myself to others.
Its often thought of as selfish to think of yourself, to say no sometimes, to disappoint people. It is all shame talking.
We can not be all things for all people.
I had no boundaries up until these last few years. (Still not a pro.) I gave and gave and gave and expected others to do the same in return. It often left me resentful and broken.
A lot of it had to do with self-confidence. I thought that if I couldn't help or give or do for others all the time - they wouldn't love me, they wouldn't want to still be friends. And a few times, friendships did fall through the cracks a bit because they were one-sided, unhealthy even. I was looking for worth in others approval, in their thoughts of me.
I'm not advocating narcissism, nor suggesting we become self-absorbed. There is so much room and love and happiness in helping, giving and holding space for others.
It is also good and beautiful to do the same for ourselves. To set boundaries, to say no sometimes, to say yes other times. Go for a walk, unfollow a few people who make you feel less about yourself, read a book, hug your dog, have a nap, do yoga, play playstation, eat a delicious meal.
You, my friend are worth caring for.
Showing up is hard. But whats more difficult is being seen. To show up for yourself and for loved ones is one thing, but to be seen by them is another. It is often easier to show up and not be seen. To show up with a mask.
Being seen risks rejection, it risks disappointment.
Simultaneously you feel both not enough and too much.
A psychologist I admire defines intimacy as "being fully known and fully accepted." He talks about how majority of us are one or the other. Either fully known but not fully accepted, or fully accepted but not fully known. And only in both can we truly be loved and ourselves.
I went to a psychologist for the better part of three years. And I've often been asked how I can be so open and honest with a stranger. And while it is not an easy thing - I find it much more difficult to show up and be seen with those closest to me. With a trained professional, whom is a stranger and unbiased - its much easier to talk about life, identity and relationships. With loved ones, quite the opposite. Maybe its just me, but I have a feeling not.
We want to be admired, we want to loved, we want to be seen as an amazing person - someone who doesn't struggle, someone who doesn't fall. Pride, shame sitting there telling us to just put the mask on. Things are fine. Cover it. No one wants to see the ugly.
Its much easier said than done but we all have ugly parts, secrets, things we don't want others to know or find out. Lets go first. Thus inviting others to join.
I feel a need to tie this with a bow, all pretty and cute, all solved. But most of life is questions and thoughts. So I'll leave you with this, how can you be known and seen today? How can you hold space for someone else to be known and seen? Its where intimacy is found. In friendship, in relationships, in life.
by Hannah Saunders
New years are wonderful. A clean page to draw and color your life on, a new canvas you get to paint anything you want on, a chance for change that you couldn’t get the grip of in 2017.
The difficulty is that life doesn’t always pan out the way we want it to. You might say “In 2018, I want to be stronger and happier”. No matter how hard you try you will stumble upon days during this year that you’re a little tearful or perhaps can’t get out of bed or socialize. People often beat themselves up, they feel as if they’ve failed because they couldn’t stick to a new years resolution. It’s not a failure, it’s being human. Don’t get me wrong, goals and ambitions are a necessity to keep yourself motivated, to gain that sense of accomplishment, something else to tick off. However, failure is a part of being human, our emotions and feelings fluctuate on a daily basis and effect the way we think and what we do - it’s normal.
2018. What if you simply devoted this year to loving yourself more? Find your fire and run with it. Why don’t you live more spontaneously, live in the moment. Anxiety always finds its way into my life when I fail a goal I set or haven’t planned my life to the minute. We all tend to put deadlines and timelines on our accomplishments, failures and self-healing. Stop doing that. Just be. We’re all going through this process called life and we’re processing at different rates. Just lend yourself a bit of the patience and love you so freely lend to others, because chances are you really need it. Give yourself more time to heal from the hurt that consumed you last year or the year before. Self-healing doesn’t happen overnight: it may take a few days or even take a few years - it sucks, I know.
Half way through the first month of 2018 you might have a few New Years resolutions or you might not. Allow yourself to make mistakes and fail (sounds ridiculous), but we grow and learn through turmoil. This year take some more time for yourself. Do more for yourself and what makes you feel more alive. This is your year. Just be.
A few years ago, I received a sort of hate letter from someone I thought to be a dear friend.
It really, really hurt. And I still seek truth over the lies that were written. Over the angrily, sprawled out red letters that detailed where I had got it wrong. How I was a burden. How they couldn't handle me.
I still get nervous and have a moment of anxiety when I see a note written for me. It just goes to show how much impact experiences and events have on us. And how important it is - to really question what you are living into. What you are believing.
In recent years, having fall in love with the written word and now having discovered how much its been a part of me since I was a kid, having people affirm it in me. Speak truth over me. Call out the greatness and potential in me while still believing I am worthy as I am. It is a sort of healing, a transformation.
A way to turn something that hurt into something good.
It makes me realise how we can create life or death with our words. How we can be mean, cynical and lazy with our words. And how we can be kind, affirming and creative with our words.
People are desperately, fighting and wrestling with lies that have been spoken over them. Lies create death. Truth sets you free.
We use words all the time. Face to face, email, texts, social media, over the phone. All the time.
The fastest, best way to create transformation is to seek truth. To not only root out the weeds (lies) but to plant flowers (truth, beauty) in their place.
Calling out someones potential, affirming them in who they are and what they are good at is something that makes them want to be even better. Call someone kind, and they become more so. Call someone courageous and they live into that. It sounds like manipulation, and we do not like manipulation. But its the best kind. Affirming someone and laying down our cynicism is one of the best ways to create change. To call someone up to be the best version of themselves.
Actions are important. I get that. I to believe that words are empty if not followed by action. If someone says they'll be there for you - it only holds up if that comes true. If they show with action their love, their promise.
Its become quite cute to say 'I'm here for you'. I often wonder what it would do if we actually meant it. If we showed up for ourselves, if we showed up for people. I think we might just change the narrative.