Being real

Being real I have been sitting in front of my lap top for several hours over the course of the last few days now. I want to write. I love writing. I want to help people through my writing. But somehow, even though that thought fills my mind when I stare at the screen, the flow, the inspiration, my frikkin mojo, which is usually larger than life has fucked off somewhere.

And so I thought I would just write that, and see what happened.

There are times in life when I am so inspired and I want to share what I am seeing in the moment and those time are usually when the most prolific writing just flows on through, the type of writing that I don’t have to think about it, it just falls on to the page.

But lately, there are no words falling, no great insights to share and nothing to get down on paper before it explodes from my head.

And that’s ok.

You see…. I think I may have got over my addiction to save the world!

For a long time after I had an insight into who I really was, and how life works I needed the rest of the world to know. I needed to show you. I needed to point you in the direction that I was seeing to save you from suffering, from pain, from frustration, anxiety and stress. I needed to save you, to make your life better, to help you avoid yukky feelings.

I needed to walk my walk and talk my talk (actually I still do that but I don’t need you to see it anymore).

There was still a part of the character that wanted to be acknowledged, to be seen as “hey look at me and what I have achieved” ”hey look at how great my peace of mind is”….there was still that part that wanted to feel good enough in the world.

But. I can’t seem to find her anymore! She has settled down into living an ordinary life and seeing the extra ordinary in that. Seeing the magic in the rising of the sun, of the singing of the birds, of the barking of my dog. She is in a place of appreciating all of it. Every single fucking messy emotion. Every single fucking bit of heartache, insecurity; every old story that still pops up for her.

I am no longer striving for perfection, to be a shining example. I am content in my realness that sometimes cries and cries for no explainable reason and equally who feels ecstatic joy and happiness and completeness, also for no apparent reason.

I feel more authentically me than I have done for decades. None of it is for show, it is just me being all of me, vulnerable, sad, needy, hurting at times….and at other times having so much peace of mind that the silence is deafening; a level of contentment that knows 100% I need absolutely nothing and no one. Until I do. And that’s ok. Because I don’t need to save you or save me or be perfect any longer.

Because…………it’s all ok and as soon as we don’t think it is then we are giving thoughts and thinking and our ability to shape a world though our furtive imagination some power.

And it all has no power. None of it. Until we give it some.

Why would I want to help you avoid feeling? Why would I want to help you not feel deep emotional turbulence? The only reason I would want to do that was if I thought it was wrong, and as if it could affect you. If I had bestowed an energy moving through your body with the ability to cut you and wound you and permanently leave it’s mark.

And it can’t.

Really, it can’t.

Because what I saw and what I know to be 100% true is that you are so whole, and so complete and so perfect already, without you needing to do anything. Even when your heart is broken in two and you are feeling so much pain in your body that your chest feels like it is going to cave in, you are still in perfection. There is still nothing wrong.

We are here, we have chosen to be here to experience. Full stop.

To experience.

Why would I want to point you away from that absolute privilege to feel, every goddamn emotion that can pass through, every flavour, every colour, and every kaleidoscopic movement of form? Why?

Feel it. Feel all of the sweaty, dirty, primal scream. Feel it, cry it, and shout it because when you do it’s gone. Holding it down is like holding down a balloon in water. You can keep it under the surface, put all your effort into holding it under but at some point when you can’t keep it down any longer it will pop up to the surface and you will have to deal with it then. Even when you know it’s only thought sometimes the feelings are so strong that they bring you to your knees. Don’t use an intellectual knowing that  it’s just thought to deny that it still fucking hurts like hell.

Because it is ok to hurt. Because it passes when you allow it. Because it is ok to love every single last bit of you. Every voice that wants to be loved and seen to be good enough. All of it.

And know that none of it is true, none of it is a fixed reality, none of those beliefs you have about what you are or what you are not, what the future holds or what it does not, what life will look like next year or what it won’t, none of it, has any grounding in any kind of certainty or fixed reality no matter how much you might try to grasp it, mould it or hang clinging on to it.

If there is anything that life has taught me it is that everything changes and nothing is certain. So get over needing trying to control that and just be fucking okay with that, because that is all you’ve got to work with.

The whole of it. Whichever character wants to play out, allow it. Whichever part of you wants to be heard, hear it. Don’t try to mould it, do a deal with it, change it, manipulate it, hide behind it, pretend it’s not real (because in that moment it is). Don’t do any of those frikkin coping mechanisms, because they will come back to bite you hard, and if you don’t feel it right now they will sink their teeth in even harder next time.

Allow the whole fucking lot.

And then it goes.

And then peace returns. Because peace is all you really are and all the rest is just a way of keeping you separate from knowing and experiencing that but until you allow it, it will keep on keeping on.

Peace and wellbeing and wisdom and clarity and nothingness is who you really are and it’s always there, no matter how long you take to get there, even if you chose to wait until you leave your body to experience it, it is all there is and all you are and in those messy moments just fucking remember that. There is nothing else you need to know.

And what a relief that I don’t need to save myself or the world anymore from that. Because there is nothing to save any of us from, there never was and there never will be.

Read my story here- about Alison