life has a strange way of circling you around where you’re meant to be. taking you through the scenic route, through awkward paths and side roads; hovering around the ultimate destination until finally it’s settles. leaving you with all these lessons, wisdom, & gentle understandings you wouldn’t possess without having taken the scenic route.
Our nature is to learn, grow, expand. To search endlessly for people, experiences, things that help us achieve that growth. Our subconscious natures lead us to these moments of potential growth for the very purpose of peeling back layers, chiseling at the hard marble-like exterior of our identities, erasing the lines we’ve drawn around ourselves, exposing our very centers. From this naked space, we learn, grow, expand.
I let the excess fall away from my form and blank space fill up the pages. I like the opportunity it provides. The freeing notion that despite the lines I make and the curves I etch, gentle gnawings of growth will always return the pages to their natural, naked state.
While living as a minority in Thailand, I felt the constant need to prove myself.
Just after the iridescent pink sunrise, I would slip on my sandals and step out of my little lime green home, taking a deep breath to steal myself for the task ahead: to continue to show the natives/locals/Thais that I am not simply any other American. I’m not a tourist. I am not the stereotype that they instantly placed on my head when they saw my pale skin, pointed nose, light brown wavy hair, statuesque figure, and the incessant sweat that poured from my brow. Continue reading
Opening the heart. This old cell of a chest cavity.
It’s not a breaking or shattering but an invigorating cracking.
Breathing into the spaces that used to hurt, ache with heaviness & unwanted space.
Sipping more air, expanding with breath, sighing, sinking, digging deeper.
Opening doorways. Creating more spaces.
Cracking open with purpose, intention.
Making space for new, fresh growth.
It’s a speckled kind of warmth, this growing process.
Like sunshined flowers beaming from my pores.
She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.
– Kate Chopin, The Awakening
I remember that feeling well. Securing the heavy cloth of “normalcy” on my shoulders as I left for my administrative job, a drooping heaviness, slowly gathering weight throughout the day. My heart ached with strained discontentment. I felt like a fraud. A failure. Incapable of fulfilling ideals of where and who I should be, ought to be, by age 25.