I almost got sad yesterday. And I could feel me sliding into the dip. I also knew I could make it to the other end. I am breaking open in slow motion.
How? It’s the single step onto a different world. I am painted in my own skin and I let normal people do normal things while I sit under a rock or overturn them. Everything else seems so important until I do the important thing. I sit down and all I want is to gobble up the nonsense so I don’t feel so much of it. We’ll get there. We are going. Some kicking and screaming. Some flying along. Some buried in our head – like me. I’ve been told that I overthink things.
I do know overthinking. It’s the place I go when nothing makes sense and I’m trying to put all the pieces in all the places to have order in my mind. Order so I can have space to dance. I don’t want to bump into everything as I am being me. I don’t want to dance my cares away and only bring them crashing down all around me. I’m careful, maybe that’s what they mean. Too careful.
I have thoughts, certain ones pounding on my mind, demanding to be let out, to be followed. I go there. They would take me if they could, but I follow and see where they end. What is the direction of them and what is their purpose? Is it insane to think every thought? Thoughts that intertwine and multiply and divide and pile on each other. Creating their own breeding grounds. They too, have an end. I’m always trying to find it.
I’m tired of “If only there wasn’t fear, then I wouldn’t be afraid.” But it didn’t come from outer space or a rock hitting me in the chest. I feel buried under that rock. Pinned down. Even when I move, I carry that glacier, that ice, the weight that never melts. I find it more in everyday, a shiver that pulses through me. I know what it is now and it’s not me. And all I’ve got is what I do with it. It doesn’t even matter where I go, up the mountain or down in the city, but how. I want to take myself carefully, but it’s so much easier to do the unimportant things.
I take for granted the moments I don’t have this heavy weight pushing and pulling at me. I think I have separation, but I only have space. Even in the noise there is space. Maybe space is all I need, enough to dance and cry and swim in a creek. This freedom of freedom.
I’ll bring a little bit of life out from under this rock and expose it to the sun and see if it can stand up or it shrivels up and shrinks. To come out and be its own and be the space that someone else needs.
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