I was way, way stoned when I wrote this and this post meanders a lot and maybe isn’t as fluid as I would have liked but editing isn’t my most favorite task either. Reader has been advised. Lol 💋
I HAVE TO
Not because I’m some glorious specimen of a human with all my parts in perfect symmetry and everything optimalized, including the things humans seem most drawn to: charisma, power, beauty, money, light-heartedness, intelligence, etc., etc.
I am not celebrating anything in particular really.
Except the fact that I am trying to be authentically who I am deep inside.
I also think that I can’t truly celebrate other people’s lives and appreciate other people as wholeheartedly and authentically either without feeling it for myself first.*
I have this one life. I want to own it. Whether it is noteworthy, NSFW, politically incorrect, hazardous even or whatever other milieu. I have to speak and be my true self because this is my one chance to do that. Here I AM a ME. And that’s a great experience.**
I have to celebrate myself because we all need someone to celebrate us. Shouldn’t it start with me? I think part of celebrating ourselves is also acknowledging who that truly is, deep down.
And I also think that until we learn to accept who we are completely, how are we to grow, to heal, to shine even the parts some people may not want to see. Even the parts we ourselves may not want to see. Sometimes we have to see what’s “there thing” and what’s ours. We can’t see that clearly until we take a good hard accepting look at the truth.
We also all need to work on keeping up our side of the sidewalk*** and appreciating and celebrating what this life is all about is part of the beauty of it to me.
It’s my sidewalk. It’s the one I’m on. I gotta make that shit sparkle (and count), not just for me but also the ever driving force of trying to be a good example to my children and to help the world if I can.
Because even if you feel someone doesn’t want to see you shine (for whatever reason) you still doing it, should hopefully somewhere inside them make them feel like maybe they can have permission to be authentically themselves and love that person for it too. It can be such a beautiful and moving thing.
And it’s not just a matter of liking myself just to like myself, because of course self esteem is important in life, but this is the way to challenge myself to really like who that is.
To be authentic with myself, as much as possible so I know I am celebrating the right person and then working my ass off to be the kind of person that I can truly appreciate, while forgiving myself profusely when I fail, and then getting up and trying again.
*That’s the most incideous part about hatred; it makes it impossible to appreciate that part which you detest. Whatever weakness or loathsome quality you attribute to others or yourself can stake a disease in your heart and soul.
**that’s what this life is. An experience of being a separate being. When in reality our souls all interconnect as one in another dimension, call that whatever you feel like, it’s just a name, the name isn’t the important part. The place is. It exists. I’ve seen it. People that have had near death experiences have seen it.
I can count on two fingers the days I’ve cursed God. Those are both days I will never forget. I didn’t want to be brought back from that place. I was so angry. I cried. I didn’t understand why I had been able to experience that and then dragged back. There had been no pleasant transition or explanation. One second there and another trying to figure out what the heck was happening.
I had to learn what I was. It was like reverse dying where instead of giving you a reel of your life, it gives you a reel of your reality because you lack any context for any of it. It is all wiped clean to (almost only by this way be able to completely) understand and be a part of that other world.
It’s fine if people laugh or mock or don’t believe me. Maybe if I didn’t understand how we are all connected and feel the energy so much. Maybe if I hadn’t had experiences with deja vu and things that simply could not possibly be statistically probable to be coincidences. If I hadn’t seen for myself what people consider “miracles” done by pure faith or simply because that’s how it was meant to be.
In heaven (my usual word for this place because I lack something else to compare it to better or as seemingly accurate) we are all pure.
I’ve talked to too many peoples souls and experienced too much. I know there is truth to what I am saying about being interconnected still, even here, very deeply so.
****although, the image just came to mind of everyone standing on their own decent size square of concrete with a broom. And sometimes you’re sweeping yours and sometimes someone else’s and sometimes others are sweeping yours. Such is probably an apropos analogy for this life.
I like being mostly under the radar. I like being able to breath freely. I don’t live in fear of my life, whether that be for self-affliction reasons, lifestyle or health issues, or because of some outside factors. Even if any of those were to be accurate (which I care to believe isn’t true) that would not change my outlook. Worry and stress are killers.
I can’t say when will be my last breath but I want to take it with peace in my heart. Even if sometimes enjoying that peace and freedom feels like a revolutionary act of war (inside and out of me,) all to itself.
I like to have eternal optimism. Not because I don’t see the issues of the world and its wonderful and varied creatures, rising and dying by both things controllable and uncontrollable. I see most of it all very clearly, at least what I understand so far, which seems a lot to me, but I haven’t met and spoken to all people. lol
I choose to have eternal optimism simply because I have that choice and I exercise the fuck out of it. (And no I’m not talking about sex here 😂).