Sometimes I want to lay down forever.
And then I get really mad at all the powerful women in my life and wonder,
“Shiloh, Sark, Johnna, Janet, Wendi, Ann…what do your bad days look like? Do you eat too much chocolate and hide? Do you put on the familiar soundtrack in your head reciting all the old stories? Or is it always sunshine and chocolate cake for you? I mean, do you ever get so triggered, you wonder if all the mumbo jumbo about EXTRAVAGANT living and BOUNTIFUL blessings isn’t all just a bunch of bullshit you paid some therapist to recite to you week after week to keep you from quitting? Regardless, I guess it worked. Where does all your courage come from? How do you keep going when you feel emptied, depleted, and like an open book splayed out for the world to see? I often wish that if I am easy to read, the whole world would be found illiterate. Do you feel that way too? The yoga community I find myself in has me feeling extremely vulnerable lately and every other day I wonder what an idiot I was to put myself out there. What if they don’t like what they see? What if i don’t like what I see? I’ve got some real ugly sides that I have been unable to hide and revealing them feels awful. I’m waiting for the community to stone me, condemn me, and reject me.
Did you ever have years when you tried to move through the sludge of thoughts and behaviors and found yourself knee deep in indignant resignation? Do you really wake up everyday and pray, meditate, write, do yoga, paint, eat raw food, and proclaim ‘Golly gee, I’m just so tootin’ in love with myself? I think I’ll skip all day long!’
Pardon the cynicism, but I’m having a hard time acting out the “I’m SO in love with myself card.”
I do appreciate your enthusiasm, encouragement, and power but I’m sitting here in this cespool and I feel all alone while all y’all are up there soaking in the hot springs.
Go on. Tell me what I already know.
You’ve been through many many many dark nights of your own.
I have a choice.
I’m not alone.
I can create a beautiful dream or a horrific nightmare.
I’m doing great. Bla bla bla.
Suffering is inevitable. Pain is optional.
I don’t know why I just thought of this, but when I was really sick, my sister in law was pregnant. She and my brother sat me down and told me that I needed to get better not only for me, but because my nieces would need a strong role model in their life. They were my drishti at the beginning of recovery. Though becoming whole to role model for them is still a large focus, I think my gaze has shifted and I want to wake up for my own sake. I am the only one who can live my life and I think I’d like to be awake for it. Sleep walking is so appealing sometimes though.
I have no clue where this blog went except for diverging and making me sound like a lunatic.
Thanks for reading. Thank you to the strong women role models in my life for living so authentically and powerfully that it often pisses me off because I no longer have an excuse to live small.
