I’m processing a lot of shit right now (figuratively…not literally that would be TMI). All very personal and close to me and big huge challenging. Sometimes it’s hard to silence all the noise and get out of my own head. I usually do that by writing. It’s how I think and feel and breathe. I’ve needed to write my story but I’ve been blocked and haven’t been able to figure out why, or how to get past it.
I just spent a week away at a solitary writing retreat. A week with my toes in the river, the dust of earth and smooth of rocks sifting through my fingers, walking through orchards in the faint of pre-dawn light my hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea, swimming in the cool waters in the sticky heat of the evening. Long nights of being in my own head and long days of focusing on what was around me and not inside of me. Quieting the noise. Breathing. Listening.
Since I’ve been home I’ve spent some time having conversations with a couple of friends. One who knows me and says all the things I might not want to hear but need to hear so very much. And one who sees me and understands me when maybe I even don’t, but they do because there is some connection there, who says the words that speak to that place inside of me, that place that needs to be seen and nourished, that forgotten place. Both of these friends know all the right things to say, and are showing up for me in all the ways I need them to or don’t even know I need them to. They’ve both left me with a thought process to launch from, a thread to follow, a steadiness among the wavering. A light and a heat and some fear but also some power. And oh lawd do I need some power right now especially. (also thank you for being my people seriously how did i get so lucky)
I’m realizing that I haven’t been able to write my story because that story is no longer mine. What I really need to do is REwrite my story. And REwriting my story is new and hard and scary AF. It’s closing the book and ripping out pages and burning them into flame and ash. It’s finding new ways to live and breathe and write and be. Finding new words to breathe into. Finding a new way to move through the world. Listening to my voice and trusting myself. Allowing myself to be and to become.
REwriting my story means melancholy, means letting go of what was or never was, means stepping into the unknown and being okay with what is. Sinking into that. REwriting my story means strength and power and clarity and empowerment and a claiming back of me and maybe hopefully some happiness. I’m kind of overdue for some or all of those.
So. Here’s me. Taking the old story, and letting it go. Here’s me. Breathing and listening and seeking and allowing a new story to unfold.