Everything I’m about to tell you is true.
First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, I will not go gently into that good night.
“Don’t forget – no one else sees the world the way you do, so no one else can tell the stories that you have to tell.”
― Charles de Lint, The Blue Girl
There have been days where the level of my anxiety makes hearing “DEFCON 1” look like child’s play. Part of that feeling is genetic, with the other part being situational. However, the secret third thing was the never-ending wonkiness that comes from hanging onto things that were never mine in the first place.
Over the past two weeks I’ve taken such a fearless moral inventory of, well, everything. Think of it like advanced navel-gazing for the weary soul – that place where you have to ask yourself eleventy billion reflective questions on the state of your being. From there you pick up all the Most Important Things You’ve Ever Owned, asking the the hardest question ever — do you spark joy?
Now before folks come for me, because the online world loves to point out all the places you are wrong, know that I fully understand the absolute privilege in owning things…then giving them away. Also, please know that you might view these images and have thoughts about people who just keep collecting things to an unhealthy level. That’s fine, it’s not my job or place to get your mind to see my perspective(s). Plus, this is my story, and telling it is gonna take a lot more courage than what’s floating around me right now. Thing is, I’ve held it back for so long, and after realizing that I am, in fact, a bad a**, it’s time to share it. Not because I need some kind of weird validation, but in the words of Ani DiFranco: “When you look at me
You see my purpose
See my pride
You think I just saddle up my anger
And ride and ride and ride
You think I stand so firm
You think I sit so high on my trusty steed
Let me tell you
I’m usually face down on the ground
When there’s a stampede
I’m no heroine
At least, not last time I checked
I’m too easy to roll over
I’m too easy to wreck
I just write about
What I should have done
I just sing
What I wish I could say
And hope somewhere
Some woman hears my music
And it helps her through her day”
(side note, this is a space for everyone, so while this song mentions women, it applies to all people)
When I was struggling, and I mean struggling to the point that I didn’t even know how to form sentences that made sense, my brain needed to find someone going through the fire as well. While a good therapist, my own stubborn nature, my family, and my therapist were there clapping for me as I ran in life’s race…everything in me just needed to see that someone else made it to the finish line.
A weird little thing about my brain is that while I was out searching, it was also important to learn all the things about what was bothering me. There is this long list of certifications for modalities needed, but that were out of my price range. Meaning it was going to be less expensive to get that piece of paper than find someone doing what the piece paper offered. Total word jumble there, but that’s the best way for me to explain my process(es). In every practicum or case study, that’s when a series of small epiphanies happened…
– everyone has struggles and challenges
– we all need someone to listen fully
– it’s not always about you
– healing isn’t linear
– the hardest thing to do is ask for help
You wanna know something that was hard for me? Kind of like the Achilles heal acting up as you and Sisyphus roll that huge boulder up a hill while some parallel universes held a sword of Damocles over your head…all while the Greek chorus was whispering in your ear…
I couldn’t let go. That’s it, there’s my huge big secret.
Then all of a sudden, in a literal sleep waking moment, I was like, “Oh…snap. If I keep holding onto this stuff nothing else can come my way.”
Now I’m out here flailing my arms like those weird balloon characters in front of pawn shops while remembering who I am (and who I was) before everything weighed me down.
Before signing off for the day, it’s important to share this with you.
It is absolutely okay to not be okay. Rumi says this being human is a guest house, and that might be one of life’s biggest truths…but if not being okay is preventing you from fully living, please reach out for help. That’s not a subtle nod to sell you something, or get you to join my program for only $49.99 a month…but a genuine offer for you to just lay it down for a bit. It’s okay to leave it here. I’ll keep it safe…there’s plenty of room. Just so you know, we do have cats, who are curious, so they might check it out from time to time. But in all seriousness…you can leave it here.
Alright – this is day 3 of getting back to what I love. It might be important to tell you, which I usually do in the beginning, is that there is a whole troop of typo faeries that live in my computer. While I leave them cream, chocolate, and fancy cheeses, they do love to dance on my keyboard after I hit “publish.” Please know that I do my best to check my writing, but if something slips by…it doesn’t mean I’m uneducated or a bad writer. Also, if that kind of thing bothers you, then maybe my work isn’t gonna be something you enjoy.
Thank you for shining your light. Thank you for doing hard things. Thank you for being as real as you can be given the (*waves hands*) way things are going.
Much love,
~ KEU
Kim Upton 