I am a delicate petal. I’m also a fighter and a survivor. I have to be.
No one else is going to do it for me.
So, I have to carry both things around even though that isn’t always so comfortable. I didn’t want to do it myself and I spent many years waiting for my saving grace, waiting to be loved enough, waiting for the someone or someones to witness all the ways I’ve suffered and who would meet all the needs I had. The fantasies of public meltdowns beneath the skin of a protected and aloof persona haunted me. I wanted the people to carry me to certainty, to stop expecting me to be functional, to see how twisted my heart felt, and nurse me back to acceptance.
I loved hospitals.
I secretly was the tiniest bit excited about going to prison. Sometimes, still, I even miss it there. Those places where the outside so clearly reflects the shadow side of my insides: sick, sad, complicated, unruly, out of control, obscene, and absurd.
But, as life, media news reports of violence and inequality are escalating, I’m losing patience with the sensitivity convo. Once a thing is identified and owned, it’s no longer the axis mundi, it’s just another piece of data. We need to keep stepping.
We keep stepping by taking care of ourselves so we can take care of others.
Being healthy, clear, and wide awake makes us effective community members, cultural voices, collective denial watchdogs, peacekeepers, and change makers.
Our astrological signs, IQs, personality quizzes and psychology labels are not permission to wallow in the containers of those limited definitions, but rather tools to more clearly articulate our stories and develop compassion for the human nature of all of the people.
So let’s all stop being so small, so labeled, so full of excuses.
Not being able to compromise, or not being able to recognize that our suffering is not so fucking unique, is boring. We’re better than that.
Maintaining comfort, having witness to your grief, is part of your self care – the healthy relationship and support system part of it. It may not look perfect. But you got this.
I know you do.
You will be fine, albeit imperfect and wanting, until you die.
And then you will still be fine.
How much longer do you really want to be powerless and afraid? There are plenty of reasons for you to be both. Also, there are plenty of reasons why you can carry on anyway.
If you’re reading this right now, guess what? You have enough time.
You’re not alone. Your daring is appreciated. Your suffering is real. You are seen. Your acts of bravery and success are not accidents. While some of you may be bolstered by your particular set of privileges, we know that you too have taken risks to carry on, that there are days when getting out of bed is the best you can do. None of that is taken for granted. Even when you show up like a goddamn gladiator of purpose. I promise.
Your brilliance doesn’t mask your humanity. Nor does your failure eradicate your potential.
So, let’s all get into the arena. The only right direction we have to go is onward.
I’ve been accused of impatience. I’ve been accused of being too interested in action. It’s true to a fault, perhaps. But I wonder, can we take all the spinning and all the excuses and just decide? Just decide that THAT ENDS TODAY.
And then get to work on this revolution. Together.
“There are two
types of tired,
I suppose one is a dire need of sleep
the other is a dire need of peace.”
Have you signed up for the (FREE!) Free Your Mind, Your Ass Will Follow mini course yet? It’s a great start.
*This image is by me. Crane count 752/1000.