Wring me out.

This entry is entirely self serving. It serves no purpose to anyone who reads this other than myself. It's a simply a dictated file from within the knots of my rubberband-ball to remind me of what lies at the center, and hope that the time where I forget these things never comes.



I am a sponge. I feel first, think last. Every pore on my skin is a welcoming chute, in which every word or experience that grazes the surface has a direct pathway to my heart. I soak you up. Not surprisingly, being this way has hindered my life. Some people have crippling fear; I have crippling feel.

I was thinking recently that the five things that I am the best at and most passionate about, are the five things that are missing from my life now. I went through a loss about 3 years ago, and ever since then, I have watched myself slowly cut everything out of my life that held the most meaning to me. All of my interest in psychology and what motivates our brains/emotions/actions/reactions, makes it clear as day why I have built this wrought iron gate around myself. Nonetheless, it's time I dissect myself and realize the effect these absences are having.

1. Dance. I was in a lot of activities as a little girl, like music lessons, twirling, gymnastics; but dance was the one that resonated for life. It's the only activity that allows me to let go and just be. When I am dancing, I allow myself to feel without judgement or fear. I am a good dancer, not an incredible one, but it will never matter to me. When I am dancing, my heart swells.

2. Art. I have not made a finished piece of art for myself in over 2 years. I have made commissioned pieces, but I can't seem to bring myself to do it for me anymore. I've thought about this a lot. I go through periods where my skin literally starts to break out and my body aches because there is something inside of me that needs to be released on paper/canvas/air. I am fully conscious of this when it happens, in fact it's been happening lately. But I can't. I can't let it out because it's something that comes from within me, and when materialized in tangible form, makes me vulnerable to losing it somehow. I fear that whatever it is, whatever comes out will expose my disgusting mess of an inside. That whatever I will create will be ugly, and repulsive, and broken, and scared and lost and unwanted and alone.

3. Act. It's always perplexed (even) me that the most precious thing to me is the one that I talk about the least. I can't even form words to express the hole in me from not being able to act. It sounds bizarre, but it's the only way I feel I can connect with anyone, through being someone else. Through believably sharing someone's experience and creating some sort of empathy for people who's lives are different than all of our own. It's how I learn; it's how I teach. It's my fertilizer and without it my growth is trivial.

4. Faith/Hope.

5. Love. Without a shred of doubt, I am better at love than I am at anything. I love with every tiny molocule of my being, unconditionally and without question. Love. Even saying the word makes me want to unzip my shell, release the foggy cloud from within my skin and soar to the highest of mountaintops without ever ceasing. When I am given the permission (safety) to love wholeheartedly, it is singlehandedly the happiest I ever am and ever will be. And it seems as though my life has turned out to ask me not to. Or at least, I've begun to believe I will never find a place safe enough to.

I realize how important it is to never let those things that give meaning to your life slip away. I am still working out the answer on how to (allow myself to) get them back.