I miss my mother, the one who read this blog and thought I was brilliant. To be excited by the unfolding of my awareness and share it with the one person guaranteed to think I hung the moon is gone. I’m in the mood to ramble a little, I didn’t know I was going to write about her, but I used to ramble to her and she never minded. Or if she minded, she faked it really well. I can feel it, the need to talk guts and to be petted and stroked by on outside source. The awareness of that is hanging at the edges, so it may as well come into the light. To be completely honest about my insecurities is a great tool for release. I’m excited by the prospect of writing a small confessional today, to really own my need for acknowledgment and what I used my mother for in her life.
I write for the pleasure of hearing my own words in my head, purely selfish and gratifying. Seriously, why else write and put it out there if you don’t like what you are saying?
What I know for sure is that emotions are fleeting and it is my delight to honor them as they move through me. I am hyper aware that I am a river, always changing, flowing, and moving forward. I don’t think I’m alone in this practice, just that I want to talk about how amazing the ride is all the time.
My mother died in August, and the emotions that come with the occurrence have been interesting. Grief can caused tears to swell up and acceptance can lighten the density of the experience all within a span of seconds. I’m not stuck in any one way of being with this, and part of that is the knowing she is over my shoulder right now as I think of her.
The ability to pivot and choose how I feel is finely honed, and keenly used these days, even as I miss the human interaction with her spirit. These are exciting times for my awareness, and I can’t help but feel please with myself. I would have shared that with her over coffee. As a child, I was taught that being please with myself was narcissistic, mom took up the slack and was my greatest supporter. So, who will be my cheerleader now if I don’t take on the roll? There must be a way to own my growing self-confidence even as I stay humble.
Lately, what I write in the morning may be clear and accurate, only to shift direction by late afternoon. And its perfect just as it is. These acknowledgments are for my own unfolding, even as I put it out there for anyone to stumble across. I think if I had anything to ask it would be that you don’t hold me to any of these writings too firmly. I am equal parts confidence and uncertainty. I think when I say “let’s talk guts” what I’m really proclaiming is that I’m not here to stay static or stagnant. It is my express desire to shift and move beyond my banks, to swell in capacity, and to let others do the same.
To own where I am in each moment seems to shift me into higher states of being. Too much of this world is surface and polish, and I just don’t have the time to fake anything. I want alignment with awareness, in all ways and always. Getting to know myself, really be honest with each twist and turn of my psyche is riveting work. It makes me feel more compassion for others, and creates more allowing within my experience for the perceived follies of those around me. I have so many myself and still I have a great love of this human that I am. How can that love not be extended outward?
The past few days have been ones of undulating awareness. Nothing I can put my finger on or grasp-a-hold-of, but there is a whiff of something just there hanging at the edges. These shifts are made of subtle stuff, the recognition of them takes fine tuning. But the tools for alignment are never far. Good music, conversation, movement, creativity, I know how to walk this path and feel so much gratitude for those who have shown me how. It’s time to let the remaining barriers towards self-love all the way down and just accept that I will always be a work in progress.