I wrote this last week, when I was struggling with something that seemed, in the moment, massive and life-altering. It blistered and festered and surprised me by it's forcefulness.
With a wonderful friend's little nudge towards gentleness and perspective, much of this anger passed.
I am grateful for his kindness and for his encouragement. I am grateful for so many things in my life.
But, sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I still hear this refrain.
the refrain
I'm talking the talk. I talk, and I talk.
I'm really good at talking.
I play the game. Yes, I want a good job. Yes, I have goals.
Yes, I want that. Yes, I need that. Yes, why not?
It's the same refrain since I was a little girl.
Seeing much more, yearning for it, feeling it at my finger tips...
...and then ignoring it. Not paying attention to it.
I always wanted to dance. To sing.
I've never taken lessons.
I never just turn the music up and do it.
What am I waiting for? Someone to show me how to move my lips?
I long to travel the world. To explore.
To set my sights on wonders and dig deep inside me.
My backpack lies unused in my closet. Unpacked.
What am I waiting for? Permission to leave?
Learning a new language. Reading the piles of books on my shelf.
Drawing. Getting fit. Learning to cook. Starting a new business. Investing in stocks. Buying real estate.
It's like I expect that these things will creep into my subconscious and suddenly, I'll just start doing them.
What stops me from starting? What stops me from doing?
Why am I paralyzed?
I love being over 6 feet
Embracing my inner Amazon queen
I stand tall and straight
But what you don't see is that I still care so much about how you see me
How much it hurts that I'm still here and you are over there.
How do I get there?
I love being unconventional - doing things differently.
I like not fitting in to the cookie cutter boxes and white picket fences.
I read "The Ethical Slut" and "Letting Go of the Person You Used to Be"
But really, yes, this white-washed Caucasian is really rocking the world with her Reitman's clothing and her Merrell footwear.
Yes, I have a pair of Trivium shoes and a great pair of purple pleather pants..... awesome!
I never wear them. They sit in my closet.
I don't even have a tattoo.
I have yet to get my dreadlocks. I've never lived on a commune.
I am not homeless, free spirited or raw.
I'm pretty fucking conventional.
This is the same refrain that I've been living since I was a teenager.
Since I wanted to run away to Brazil to save the rain forest.
I didn't do it then. I'm not doing it now.
What's stopping me?
Fear? Sloth? Lethargy? Apathy?
Am I just hoping that some great person will take me under their wing because they see the "potential" in me?
Why can't I just trust that I am OK? That I have potential enough. That it's time to just go.
Stop waiting and go. Why haven't I gone?
So I got laid off. 4 months ago. What have I done with that time?
And here I am, a Wednesday night. I'm in front of my computer writing when I could be doing something different.
Something more. Something else.
Serving dinner at a soup kitchen. Helping orphans in Africa. Feeling like I am physically making a difference in this world.
Instead of sitting in my comfortable home. With a beautiful and loving friend. With all the amenities I could ever imagine.
With air conditioning. A cuddly cat. Movies. Good food.
Feeling sorry for myself.
Really?
Really?
It's the same refrain that I've been living since I was in my twenties and thirties.
Feeling so out of place in this world - and catching glimpses of my authentic soul.
Glimpses which make me ache and move me to tears.
Glimpses which smack me in the face and remind me about who I am.
I saw it when I was in the woods - searching for lost and missing people.
I saw it when I was a Big Sister to a girl-child who became part of my family.
I felt it in the moments when I unflinchingly wrote my pain and my sorrow in poetry.
I felt it when I was at my lowest. When my compassion was at its highest.
When I sat in front of the mirror and peeled away the layers of lies and the pretenses accumulated during the day.
The yeses and pleases. The inability to say no. The overriding need to say yes.
The realization that I wanted to make peace and keep things harmonious.
When really, what I was doing was causing a torrential storm of rage and emotion inside of myself.
I am not yet forty and I refuse to live this same refrain. I refuse to.
I know that what is inside me and what I think I have to do are totally separate.
I don't know where the distinction is and I don't know how to find it out.
But it's there.
I need to be me. I need to be authentic. I need to live the life that I want.
I need to do. I need to go. I need to grow.
~ June 2011
