It’s Time To Phone Home

All I really want deep, deep down, is to be surrounded by the things that enhance, grace and energise. For that, I have to ensure that I am taking in the things that will do that for me. Because what goes on within, is projected without.

My mind must be filled with enhancing, graceful and energising thoughts. My heart must feel them and I physically must embody them. My soul can then come home.

It sometimes feels like quicksand, the journey, like I sometimes want to step into the claustrophobic, sticky pull of the sand and be lowered into the depths where I can binge, gorge and sloth, and feel bitter, bored, angry, envious, lazy and twisted, victim-led thoughts. All the while calling it my freedom of choice just to justify it.

My true nature is found in those moments when I look up and away from the sand. Perhaps the closest I have come to it fully in this form is at birth.

What I really want is space. The space to just be, is true freedom. The space to be as I am and the permission from myself to be that.

I am the woman who is fascinated by many things.

I am the woman who can stare at stars and cloud shapes and tree trunk textures for hours without getting bored.

I am the woman who is so overwhelmed by the full moon that I could swear I am made of it and am gazing at a piece of my soul; of my home.

I am the one that could bathe in books, perfumed in old pages and bound leather.

I am the one that can taste mouth-watering words, become a note or a beat in a piece of music until I am feeling the soul communication of the music’s creator, find a heartbeat in a flower, have an enlightening conversation with a snail, see a mentor in a cat and a cat in a mentor.

I see the place I am from is borderless, endless, and can never be fully known while I am in this form.

I understand the place we all come from is the place just before conception and just after death.

I see that even a table is from that place.

If I look hard enough, I can almost see the atoms, molecules and cells in my hand and the invisible energy binding and filling them. Beyond that I am nothing and I am everything.

So you see, in being the truth of me, I can’t stay in the quicksand too long or I will die living.

In order to become fully me, many things will change. I feel almost compelled to apologise to my loved ones, nearest and dearest, because I don’t want to disturb them and because it would seem like I have been living a lie. I can honestly say I have always been me in here somewhere, but maybe just a fraction of me is expressed in various moments. It hasn’t been a lie, it’s been a hard-to-shake habit.

I could apologise for not sitting as long in front of the TV or watching shows that really mean nothing to me, and instead preferring to talk about what makes us tick.

I could apologise for sometimes preferring a quiet room and a gripping book, over a loud soiree where people tell each other how fine, fat, fed-up or fucked they are and then eventually surmise that it’s just the way it goes in glum and defeatist tones.

I could, at another time, apologise for preferring a loud night of dancing over a quiet and stuffy gathering.

I could apologise for wanting to go on a nature walk instead of a shopping spree.

For wanting to cut out magazines and sugared snacks so I can use the money on organic groceries.

For suddenly really awakening to the cruelty of factory farmed animals and not wanting to eat meat as much until I can know exactly the where and how of who I’m eating.

I could apologise for many changes in me, but I won’t.

I won’t apologise, because isn’t it so tragically sad that we feel the need to apologise for being ourselves? Isn’t it so sad to face frowns, eye-rolls, sighs and opposition for the things that make us, US. That’s how little we accept people who threaten our justifications for staying in our quicksand and especially people who don’t fit the norms.

I won’t apologise for changes because there isn’t really a change, it’s actually a becoming more of who I really am.

There may be a back and forth and many a temptation and there already has been in the few years of changes. The quicksand is always just there in front of me and I fall often.

The fear of isolating myself is great. The truth of it is that I may become distanced from people and feel I have nothing in common with many who I was previously close with. It begs the question though, was that really close at all then?

If who I really am seems alien to you…then maybe that’s because I am getting so much closer to where I am from and it’s time to phone home. I’ll take your bewilderment as a great sign.

Some distancing will be exactly the way it needs to be in order for me to grow.

If you stay, I’ll be your book and you’ll be mine. Read me and enjoy the unfolding of the adventure. My heart is yours.

Birth. The alien eyes and the smile that still knows the truth.

Birth. The alien eyes, and the smile that still knows the truth.


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