Old Words, New Questions

The Morning Glory does not shame the Moonflower 
for blooming in the evening.
                                   ~Me (I think)*

*Today's mood: poetic


I don't think self-love and self-acceptance are quite the destinations we make them out to be.

I think that they are things we come to, lose, and need to be reminded of again and again.

And the messages are carried to us in so many ways: 

🔼

in the lyrics of songs

in sayings

in the scenes of a show

in still moments

in flowers

in the clouds in the sky

in a moment

in a memory of a moment

in a smile

in a sparkle

in a laugh that makes you cry

in a story

in a word alone

...etc...

🔽

This week a word has come to my attention in a whole new light: karma.

In the world I live in, it is usually used like this: "Karma's a bitch."

How often do we hear someone say that in a moment of pain?

Uttered almost as a curse.  As a threat.  A protection, perhaps?

And, yet, if karma is meant to be the act of summoning to ourselves the occurrences, and the people, that teach us our hardest lessons to learn-

the ones we learn through pain and struggle-

the ones we often turn away from again and again-

the ones that offer the most potential for growth-

is it an irony that, as it's being uttered, the karma existing within the actuality of the moment isn't being seen?

And what of dharma?

If it is what allows for celebration- of life, of love, etc- would it be beneficial for it to be constant?

Or could it, like physical celebration, burn us out if not given a rest?

And in this way, do these things not come again and again?  Neither of them being constant?

And in this way, does it not allow for those reminders to be many and needed?

And in this way, does the ebb and flow of pain and joy not seem perfect?

Rinse, Rinse, Repeat

"What time are we upon and where do I belong?"

                                        ~Witch Baby by Francesca Lia Block

↠↠↠𑁌🔼𐩓↞↞↞

As my month off comes to a close I find myself reflecting on the lessons it has brought me; what it has taught me about myself.

Each year, as I'm left to regulate my own routine, I learn something new about myself; about how I operate within the confines of my own scheduling.

I usually flounder a bit before finding my footing, then I lean into the reset.

One thing I notice is that the transitions are always where I find the most resistance.

Letting go of what is established- whether it's the work routine or my own- is always hard.

Last year the floundering lasted most of the month, with me finally adopting a pretty kick-ass-take-my-mornings-back routine right before returning to work.

It took me straight through fall and winter with an ease I have never been able to create without desperation necessity as a driving force.

This year the floundering didn't last more than a week as Flora started preschool shortly after my layoff began.

This left me with this wonderful, freeing, three hour window to start fresh each day.

You give me a whole month to plan and I'll run screaming; but now a three hour window?

That I can work with!

Just as it was with last year's established routine (though they came at different times for different reasons), I seem to go through a mourning of its loss.

Sometimes it can be the loss of something only shortly established.

For instance....

Despite the fact that I'm coming back from a three day beach vacation, I find myself looking at this day after as a recovery.

The shifts seem to disable my footing, and the only thing I can seemingly do to recover it is to rest and reset.  

Which leaves me in the space of reflection.

Reflection is a place where I find comfort in the chaos.  A place where I can take time and make sense of what has passed and where I'm at in all of it.

And I see that I've been finding myself in bits and pieces, here and there.

And that each time I a find a piece of me, I also find "not me," too.

I find my fear in the same place I find my inspiration.  

I find my resistance in the same spaces where I lean in.

I ponder what it says; what it doesn't say; how it feels when the honeymoon phase of discovery is over.

I see what I find myself tossing aside; what I find myself holding onto.

Where there is resistance, I recognize and try to  release.

And there is a sense of comfort in the as-isness of it all.

Even in the resistance. Because it is its own lesson.

Rewind.  Reflect.  Resist.  Reset.  Release.  Recover.

Rinse.  Rinse.  Repeat. 

Fibonacci, Baby!

When I consider what I really enjoy and want out of life, I realize that each thing has a duality.

For instance, I enjoy connecting with people- it really lights me up!  And I also need time alone to recuperate.

Or like with creative endeavors- the feeling of self-discovery that comes with creating is almost addictive at times;

but still, I need some concrete, almost mundane, tasks to ground me as well. 

And any of these- connection, time alone, creating, mundane work, etc.- if binged, can leave me reeling.

And I realize it's perfect that way.

In this moment I realize I love this part of myself.

I love it for keeping me in check regardless of any limiting beliefs I've held in the arena of "all or nothing; 1 or 10."

And I realize that even in belief there is a duality.

I realize we can be where we are without it having to be "right;"  without having to prove that

we.are.right.

Beliefs change and are molded just as we change and are molded.

And again I realize this is perfect.

Because just as the universe is constantly expanding- spiraling outward- I believe that these invisible things- like beliefs- are also meant to expand.

While some things in this physical world benefit from limitation, that which is invisible, I think, benefits from this constant expanding.

The
 
      M I C R O
 
                 following

                                the
                 
                                       M A C R O.

⥀ ⬩Fibonacci, baby⬩ ⥁

Reversion Aversion

So I get a text from my little sister asking if I want to buy cookie dough from my nephew for his fundraiser at school.

Pretty harmless, right?

After responding, I immediately pull up Facebook.

"Why did I come here?" I wonder.  Followed by the question, "Am I really numbing right now?"

Because it wasn't a thought that crossed my mind: "I need to numb now."

In fact, no discernible feeling or thought was connected to me opening Facebook.

I read a text.  I responded.  I was on Facebook.  For no real reason.

Which lead me onto thinking other thoughts.

Like, "How does it feel to talk with my sister?"  And better yet, "How does it feel when I engage with my family?"

And I realize it is a mixture.  A mixture of both comfort and anxiety.

So I explore that further.  "Why would I feel that way?"

I realize that these are the people who have seen me at my absolute worst and lived to tell the tale-haha!

And because I've never lost them over any of that trivial bs, I feel an ease of comfort when talking to them because I have no preconceived ideas of judgement.

But then the anxiety.

I believe when I engage with the family I grew up with it has a tendency to take me back to a different time.

A different me.

What I will refer to as "Trailer Park Ashley."

See, Trailer Park Ashley lives in what seems to be a very small world.

Trailer Park Ashley expects everything to be easy, and spends all of her time happily oblivious; alone in her room with her nose in a book.

Trailer Park Ashley has no goals and no stories of success to look up to.

It's a sense of comfort commingled with a sense of loss.

Loss of self.  Of current self.

And none of this is to say that I suddenly start living my life a different way.

And none of this is to say that it's in our best interest to bury the person we once were at the cost of who we want to become.

(Though I dare say it denotes the fact that I am quite afraid to dig her up and let her live)

It's to say that the potential for my energy to shift back to this space creates a resistance in me.

It's to say that, when I feel these things, I immediately want to avoid those feelings and numb out instead.

And it's sneaky, the way these shadows creep in- the shadows of fear and avoidance.

Remember?  There was no thought process or feeling that said "Leave now.  Enter a happier place.  Distract."

It just happened.

It shows me just how terrified I am of being that trailer park girl again.

Of being the person who never has a fulfilling life because it is easier to get lost numbing out.

And then that leads me to ask myself, "How can I stop fearing that version of me?  How can I show it love instead?"

And that's hard.

Because I'm not entirely sure how much of that self should be loved and embraced.

Luckily, the ↣*ding!*↢  light bulb clicks.  I find the love!  I feel the love.

And yet again, I realize, it's about balance.

That part of me can be unhealthy if it reigns supreme.

BUT, the part of me in there....

                               the part that can be loved....
                                               
                                                  is my ability to sink into enjoyment!

I have the ability to completely bask in a feeling- to enjoy it completely.

But the back hand of that is that I also have the ability to completely wallow in a feeling- to get stuck in a place of misery.

This seems to be the most common theme in my life right now.

Being shown fear, and then realizing that balance is key.

Things are never all shadow nor all light.

And the fact that I have categorized most everything as such (without really even realizing it) has been- I believe- a huge part of my suffering.

Well, thank goodness growth doesn't come without struggle.  Elsewise I suppose I'd be a midget.

HA!