sometimes i just need an outlet. even if i'm not necessarily being creative, or productive, or positive, it's important for me to have a place to unleash the weird peculiarities and fearsome worries that sometimes get locked up in this silly mind of mine.
(left: nature of mind, by alex gray*)
writing into a place where i know i am understood and accepted unconditionally, i know that i am welcomed and loved. i know that in this enveloping love and acceptance i can find my way again, since almost all imbalances and energy blockages are the result of an absence of divine love. when i remember that i am loved and accepted unconditionally, i regain my intuitive ability to differentiate between the thoughts and things that serve me and those that do not.
writing in a blog has been a big leap for me. it's not that i don't feel vulnerable or gaping-open and exposed when i write about personal things, it's that i have come to the realization that we are not separate: that we all experience pain, insecurity, sorrow, revelation, joy and ecstasy, all together, and sharing with others helps me to humble myself in each and every one of these experiences, and to create a wider and deeper space for compassion inside my own heart. i know that if you judge me because of these things, maybe you just have not accepted your emotional or hurting self. i know that when i judge myself, i create a divide that only alienates me from my own self and subsequently from others, and i think that the toxicity in these "down" moments is not the low feelings themselves but the judgments we attach to them.
there's nothing negative about pain, except that we are taught to judge it as such. it's in the deep, dark places that our roots grow, and the deeper they are, the higher our branches can reach towards the sky. these dark, shadow aspects are what make us most powerful, compassionate, grounded, and balanced.
any time i despair, or feel alone, sad, scared, angry, i step outside of myself and observe myself from above, from the divine, and this always helps me put it into proper perspective. i see this perspective as my great divine mother, and sometimes even as my dying self reflecting on my own life and telling me how to respond to each situation from this perspective. viewing life as impermanent, and thinking about my "dying self" is not in any way morbid, because for me it is a way of remembering to drink the juices of each moment. it helps me to reflect on how i would wish myself to live if i were on my last few breaths, how i would wish i had lived my life.
i'm with dave matthews... i can't believe that we would lie in our graves, wondering if we had spent our living days well, dreaming of things that might've been...