there's just so much to write, she thought. she was paralized by the enormity of it. this was one of those things she could easily file in her "whoa that was cool" folder, talk about too much, get too redundant with it, and negate it's importance in doing so. but she wouldn't. she might not even be able to, come to think of it. she, for the first time ever, was simply, kindly, and absolutely... herself. and the unbelievable part about it was that she LIKED herself at its core. She liked who she was, she liked her intentions, she liked how she related to people, and she liked what she did. She respected that person and enjoyed how it felt. She was proud of her core self. She wanted to be more like it in her everyday life.
She loved her body. It wasn't perfect, but that's what made it charming. She was a nerd in all the sexiest ways. She exuded her sexuality through her brains and she was powerful. She was a giver. She was a receiver when she wanted to be and she didn't feel guilty in doing so. She was open and attentive, a multi-tasker, and a doer. She wasn't afraid to say no, and she was certainly not afraid to say yes. The little bumps in the road didn't phase her, and when they did; well, she dealt with those hurdles as though they were beautiful babies who needed a bath.
She realized the things she didn't love about herself in everyday life were all symptoms of the past that no longer held importance. They were protective walls for empty rooms that had long since lost their necessity. She realized she could knock those walls down.
She needed walls, here and there. But they didn't have to be permanent, and they certainly didn't need to be made of steel. Some of the ones she'd built were in the direct way of her creativity flow, her trust, her desires, and her strength. She was much too fearful of pain to hold any proportionate meaning. She was also much too adaptive emotionally, and much too unadaptive, professionally.
But, she could let these things go - tear down those walls - if she finally came to terms with those demons from her past. She was the baggage carrier of someone else's baggage. It was not her identity at all - just the mirrored perception of someone else's pain. Nothing but droppable baggage! Not reality, at all.
So, she dropped it.
She dropped it by first opening up. Being herself, even when it felt obtuse or invasive. Realizing it never was obtuse or invasive - simplycalled obtuse and invasive by the reflectee; a perception from an person on the extremely sensitive side of the spectrum. She had always been good-intentioned, and she had always been intelligent. High energy, but not invasive.
And in her past, she'd quickly learned to control these "outbursts". And she'd stopped being creative so she would stop being annoying. She stopped searching for answers when she realized she'd been asking too many questions. And she silenced herself. And she asked the questions in class, instead of in life. She asked when she knew the rules of asking, and could control herself. She explored emotions and characters on the stage, instead of the living room. And eventually, on the page, instead of the stage.
And she was sensitive to rejection.
But her ears were blind to praise.
She was trying not to make a "blip" on that radar, 'cause "blips" are ridiculously annoying sounds.
And all of those constructions, Those adaptations, Those negative evolutions, and Those Walls were created to protect herself from something that wasn't hers to protect. She was Free.
She had to let it go. So she did.
It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her baggage. It wasn't her puzzle. It wasn't her responsibility. It wasn't hers. She was free.
So she proceeded exploring this brand new world with the person she now was. This bare-boned, strong-but-too-skinny rucksack of a woman. She was a tiny, weak, beaming ray of sunlight that exploded with all that good in her that was being stifled by the now-combusted baggage. Here she was, the second-to-last step in the Hero's Journey. A resurrection - skeletal-but-standing. Light in the darkness. She knew she could nurture this good in her, and grow strong with light. She needed to flex those muscles and keep the baggage from stifling her again. She could let it go - instead of carrying it, she could help others burn it for themselves, or at least help them drop it.
She smelled the dusty air. She belonged here.
Okay, so I understand that this is a little off-topic for my blog... but I just had to post this little free-write I did upon my return to NYC from the playa.
Plus, consider this: Burning Man is an entirely commerce-free environment, and I spent about $20 in total for food during the week; the rest was gifted to me. How's THAT for cheaply green??
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(finally). David and I have worked together on a slew of movies and film jobs through his production company, .jpg)
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