I've been telling myself I have writer's block
or maybe "this" is physical exhaustion or the rainy day.
I can hear my intellect grasping to reason- like its looking for sunshine and unicorns.
I can hear this background mind chatter working hard to convince me-
convince me to just be happy, to focus on the bright side, to find the positives.
Convince me that my 'great life' is enough, to just smile and ignore this pressing place inside.
Working hard to damn whatever the hell "this" is that wants to move, rise or ignite.
And yet.
This moment, as I breathe and just stay right here- at the core.
I can feel a life time of reigning myself in.
My god. I can feel everytime I've bit my tongue to avoid disruption.
Everytime I've backed down from a truth that was rattling in my bones.
And sure I hate feeling pissed off, who doesn't
I hate the feeling of anger or confrontation.
But "this" was different.
This had been a pattern, a predictable cycle. The shitty kind.
The kind where I play small and you hover over me.
The kind where I shut up so you can rant on.
And now the sum of it all- is I now fear this tsunami of my own, the mountain I stuffed away.
Whether it be egg shells or stuffing it down...that shit had to go somewhere.
That shit- this feeling that is now rising up from deep inside- a core truth thats been simmering below.
I can now see how this has been the result of my separation.
The result of not voicing my truth, not owning my truth
Separating, labeling and compartmentalizing my truth to make myself palatable.
Removing it and myself from potential toxic equations...often enough and long enough to now sit on the cusp of a serious fucking tsunami.
A rising wave of history that I stored away.
The sum of all of this at times just feels like plain old bullshit.
Sure, I can look back and clearly see how it once served a purpose
I can look to all the choices I've made to attempt 'making nice'
I can see where I've adapted this pleasing mechanism to not rock the boat.
But here's the thing
This fire in my belly. This roar in my chest. This burning on my lips.
This.
This is sheer aliveness.
This is me allowing the unearth of my containment.
This is me owning the indestructible force that I AM and to now recreate from my core.
I had once feared that I will be some "bitter- divorced -over 40- man hating woman".
Fuck that.
I am wise enough to take back this wave for myself and allow every hurt, rage, sorrow, and disappointing experience wash over me and flow within my own force of creation.
So YES.
"This"...this feeling.. will disrupt the bullshit that no longer needs to linger.
This is about leaving all channels open and letting go of my own damn.
Open to have a difference of opinion
Open to have a space large enough for more than one truth, more than one voice
Open to write from my core and whatever the hell that looks like on any given day
Open to hear, feel, touch and connect with whatever rumble shakes my bones
And finally open to being FREE.
So yeah, this is definitly NOT writers block...at least not this time!
~Ange Arbuckle