I have been faithful to that promise, but not always comfortable sharing that process.
My writing is influenced by something larger than my everyday meanderings. My photography projects range from deep inspiration to intense gratitude just for being alive.
This September marks the one year anniversary of the moment my life completely changed.
I will not say that it was entirely my decision.
It shattered in a way that was irreparable.
A passage across the Rubicon.
A look back and I am in awe.
Hey! Look at that!
I crossed a point of no return.
Yeah, I did that.
And now here I am.
Where?
I have no fucking idea.
The only thing I know, is that I don't know.
Some wounds never heal with time. Instead, they start hurting again given certain weather conditions. It is very rare that I feel anger. I do not believe in anger, instead I see it as a mask covering up emotions I have yet to face more directly. Irritation, the precursor, is usually a symptom of impatience. Here I must accept this juncture. I must allow myself the luxury of wallowing in my own pain. In that deep dive I swim the depths with familiarity, a new understanding that overlooks the old. I can truly say, Yes, I am living my truth.
"Be not the slave of your own past. Plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep and swim far, so you shall come back with self respect, with new power, with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old." -Ralph Waldo Emerson
Today I left my door open. The consequences of that action, requiring me again to vacuum up ruffled feathers. Emblazoning the fact in my head head, that yes, I indeed do have the tools to face that reality.
Whether I like it or not.
To further ritualize that moment, I set fire to the last remnants of my past. I set fire to that dead dream, I watched it burn. I breathed in the smell of burning gratitude. I exhaled the ashes that eventually become fertilizer for another dream.
From those ashes came the realization that I need another outlet. I need to give myself permission to practice walking my talk. I need a reason to speak every day when I otherwise might stay silent. I want to give meaning to my self portraits in order to share them.
Laying in bed all day sick from the death of a dream, whose time had long since extinguished, I watched the movie Anna Karenina six times. So taken by the lovely production, I wanted to create my own vision of it.
Early morning rise and drive to my special spot, struggle against fears of safety, I climbed the slippery slope to the train tracks. Countess Vronskaya's words on my mind, "I'd rather go through life wishing I hadn't, than wishing I had."
And as Anna, I whisper, "I don't know."
Rebelle Society ~ Nine Signs You Might Be Anna Karenina
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