Writers out there: why don’t you write?

I’m curious…and hopefully that doesn’t come off as condescending… (because I relate)

If you have a passion and a pleasurable hobby, what prevents you from pursuing it?

If you know that blogging is therapeutic for you, why don’t you do it more?

I guess, this relates to ALL artists types…musicians, dancers, painters, photographers, etc…

Why do we avoid the very thing we love?

I’m open to answers, this isn’t a rhetorical question! I’m struggling with this right now. I daydream about all the things I want to write about…but then aimless computer games and social media feeds waste my free time until my eyes and neck are too sore to finally create and contribute something meaningful to this website.

Sometimes I think I don’t write because I think that to be a writer means that I have to be better than what I’m doing to honorably fall into that category. I think that if I don’t have the burning fire inside me to start a new blog post multiple times a day, then I’m not a true writer and I should just step aside for the real ones to get more attention.

*****

Why do you avoid _____?
And more importantly: how do you still stick with it even when limiting beliefs are trying to take over?

 

 

Are we flat?

’tis that time again when I feel like a zombie…

One day I am moving forward with my goals,
the next I am stuck in my room
avoiding everything.

I oscillate through all types of states of consciousness and emotions. Why does everything always pretend like life is one simple baseline experience? No highs, no lows. Their facade is “medium.”

BULLSHIT.

Maybe other people will start opening up about their inner worlds when I continue being honest about mine.

 

Adulting and talking through conflict

Roommates. They are all CrAzY, right?? Or are you and I the crazy ones? lulz.

I’ve been realizing lately that roommates are the exact people that we can learn communication and conflict resolution with.

(This post might be a little jumpy until all my thoughts barf out.)

I am in a graduate program where all we talk about is how to make the world a better place.  Most of the time the discussions go towards dismantling the entire structures of capitalism, patriarchy, and privilege.

Super ambitious, amirite?

Image result for eye roll gif

It gets me thinking about change and how we want to be a positive influence in the world.

Where are the abundant opportunities for day-to-day change in the world?

OUR HOMES.

If we can’t have a talk about unequal chores around the house and modifying our behaviors accordingly, how can we really expect to influence entire structures in society?

Seems too boring and simple for anything dramatic…but your home is where you spend the most time. When you make changes in your day-to-day habits, that gives you a safe and comfy foundation for the rest your life outside of the home.

Talking with a roommate about how often dishes are getting done AND put away (vs. how much you want them done) isn’t necessarily directly connected Amazon deforestation (or whatever your large-scale global superhero mission is), but it’s working from the ground-up so that at least your home life is thriving and supportive when it is time to save the world 😉

 

 

 

Dislocated

Frozen…but not the kind from being too cold. It’s the type that comes from a new intimacy with Truth.

Truth came to my full attention this evening.

Truth came to replace its previous stand-in: distant, shallow stories.

Truth revealed itself through expressed bravery and exposure.

It’s easy to be nonchalantly composed when theory runs my life.

“Those problems are ‘over there…’ Is this even really happening? Is it that big of a deal?”

But then I find out and realize that YES. It is. These problems are simmering in people’s lives who I see weekly, more than my own family and dogs. And now, it’s boiled over for me to see…for me to feel.

When people share their vulnerability it allows us to step up and meet them—to fill that once-distant space between us.

There becomes a new layer of intimacy to explore: humanity.

For now, I’m still processing, digesting, and frozen.

…but what’s gonna happen when I melt?

You ask how I’m doing…

But do you really care?

When I answer truthfully I scare you off.
Is it my honestly?
My dreams?
My pathetic excitement and curiosity in my own life?

You shut me down and criticize me for answering the way I did.
(Whatever that was)
So I am conditioned to not open up.
I close myself off to you.

This pattern cycles around in circles like the seasons.

I begin to think
“What if you are right?”
and I really have palty aspirations
that don’t offer anything to anyone,
that I’m not valuable,
that me being on Earth and me not existing wouldn’t make a difference to you, or anyone.

If anything, it would be less of a hassle if there was less of me..

So why do you ask how I’m doing?


Sorry for the depressing ass shit lately. It’s a phase I’m going through, hopefully. Luckily, I’m remembering how therapeutic writing poetry is for me…you reading this probably understand

“I want to die”

What is this voice inside of me that keeps on saying “I want to die”?

It scares me.

Do I really want to die?

Is it my fate to pass over even before I pass the age to get off my dad’s health insurance plan?

I hope not.

But the voice that wants to die is so loud…
so determined…
to make itself heard and make me FEEL the pain in those words

I justify the dialogue by saying
“It’s just an aspect of my personality that wants to die.”

But how can I be so sure
that those words
“I want to die”
don’t mean all of me?

I’m always shocked when…

…I see one of my friends light up a cigarette.

Especially when I experience them as strong, health-conscious women.

Maybe they are just the social smoke, that saves it for alcohol-infused social gatherings…or maybe not.

Why?

Why do you smoke cigarettes?

Eco-feminists: Why do you ingest those levels of nasty-ass chemicals when you also understand the traumas that Mother Earth goes through and connect that to the female body? (Is this a gnarly blind spot for your very own ecofeminist outlook?)

Do you realize that you are choosing the unfortunate fate for your very own fleshy space-traveling vehicle?

😦

Those conversations that leave you feeling…

elevated and better than before…they remind you of the magic that can weave thru reality.

They bring out your most optimistic, excited, highest state.

They make you feel buzzing, with ripples of shivers migrating across skin. Kundalini? Are you hanging out too?

Thank you.

Let’s keep on cultivating these interactions, and prune out of the rest to save energy for what really matters.

Insights about life and all the layers within