Fall presses down on me, calls forth a buzzing in my blood similar to that experienced by the animals as they prepare for another long winter. Only my every instinct says "change, change."
It feel as though so many of you are writing and thinking about this—this desire to become who we know we MUST be, somewhere and on some level. So why is it so hard? I sense my other Self just ahead of me, impatient, waiting for me to move forward and merge with her. So why can’t I? I think part of it is that I really DO believe it should be easy. I know, I know. But if it’s an effort to do certain things, then doesn’t it mean that they are not natural to who I REALLY am? And yet I long for them, long for beauty around me despite the fact that I know nothing about interior decorating. Long for gorgeous clothes that feel like ME even though I barely have the energy (and the time) to shower most days. Long for a vibrant community of artists and writers around me, even though I don’t always find the words to comment to you all, the artists and writers I actually HAVE around me.
So...if it’s all such work, then does it fit into my life? I don’t know. All I know is that my life feels small lately. TEG thinks that I censor myself too much, am too dependent on approval and validation from the universe. I think he’s right, especially on the first part of his statement, but for some reason I can only really see all of that hindsight. I go over conversations with my friends, my parents, and am shocked to see how much I hide of myself, and then I despair that they don’t really know me. But, again, hindsight. Why can’t I catch this as its happening and take the risk?
I’ve also been thinking a great deal about an old, old dream of mine...something that is difficult for me to articulate in its fullness. I dream of a bohemian life for myself, a life full of travel and art and literature and unconventional friends and an unconventional ME who is always learning, always working, always writing. It sounds trite when I put it into words, incomplete somehow. And because I can’t really imagine it into fullness, I can’t seem to make it happen. I know that part of it is that I fear that it’s black or white—either I am in the mainstream or deliberately outside of it. And I do love aspects of the mainstream, and I don’t want to turn away from Project Runway or America’s Next Top Model. I don’t want to have to walk away from my family—can be the kind of mother, the kind of wife I want to be even as I pursue a different path? Why does it feel like I have to be alone in order to be who I want to be? Am I creating a false choice?
The other problem is, honestly, I can’t seem to attract this community into my life—I don’t know if its my ambivalence, or my fear of speaking boldly, or what, but I meet people I would love to get to know better, and...they never seem to want to get to know me. Ugh, that sounds whiny, but I have to be honest. That's more of an Eat, Pray, Love hangover...I was fascinated by her ability to attract all of those interesting people into her life. I kept waiting for her to share her secret, but alas, none was forthcoming.
All of me wants to give Madam the chance to see her parents engaged deeply in their work, in a life well lived. I am grateful that I saw my parents abandon themselves to joy, to dancing, even when they couldn’t always climb up that American ladder towards the Dream. They were passionate, loving people who overflowed into the lives of so many others. I don’t want Madam to see her parents living an arid life.
Tomorrow is my media-less day. I can feel myself trying to fill my mind with words in anticipation for tomorrow. But I know what I need is to really delve into the emptiness that I am forever rushing away from here. Maybe there I will find some of what I seek.
Labels: navel gazing