Sometimes I live some life. I wait some days, mostly to recover: get rehydrated, neutralize my nervous system, process and let things go, grind to make up for lost time, and realign with my deeper mission. Sometimes it is fun to play and let loose, and sometimes, the socializing alone can do that for me—provide the excitement I need. As someone with social anxiety, learning to dive in anyway and to stay present and sincere is a most thrilling ride. And yes, I did giggle at myself for how I wrote that sentence.
So with some time away to put the blocks back together, I’ve been noodling. And I think “ooh, I’ll write about that!” and “ooh, that might be an interesting idea to expand upon.” And as I’m sitting here at Hodgepodge Coffee House in East Atlanta Village, steps away from where I am petsitting for an extended stay, I am just pleased with the circumstances. I am simply pleased to be sitting here and writing. And my outfit is sort of cool—authentic. Not something you’d see in VOGUE and probably not even something I’d want posted on an Instagram. I’m wearing a practical ensemble: sleeveless top for heat, but a more tailored and textured cut to provide sophistication; high-wasted shorts that don’t look great and that you can maybe see my undies through, but clean; socks I’ve folded over to prevent blistering from some boots I bought a few years ago and am breaking back out to break in—Clarks!; minimal bracelet- an evil eye on a red string, and a handmade beaded cuff with my name on it that my friend Katherine and I made together; jade elephant earrings that were handed down from a pal, Talia; and wet hair that is currently halfway tied up in a bun on my head; New Yorker tote that I got for free and use with pride; and a stone on a string that I got from a store in the mountains with my dad. Awesome, right? It is very me. A little sloppy, but comfy, and a little classy, not too shouty but assumes the confidence in taking up space. Things younger me would have worn, and probably did wear, until she felt pressured to shift into other appearances to fit in.
So. I wanted to write a little bit about spirituality. On my walk this morning, (my third walk, because I’m petsitting,) I thought about how lucky I am to have pals like Katherine and Lauren because we are all a *little* goodie-two-shoes, not intentionally, but from our upbringings that have religious ties. Yes, we’ve rebelled and continue to in our own ways, but the core of the good heart and gentle spirits, and at least an interest to be better humans, is there. And I was thinking I was lucky because sometimes I roll so quickly down a path and forget to slow down and breathe. Their spirits can sometimes neutralize my own chaos, reminding me to be more tender with how I interact. I like that gentler version of myself. It’s the self who comforts—who trusts.
My understanding of the human spirit continues to evolve. And I often times don’t love talking about it in words because I personally do not like when I feel preached at, or like someone is trying to change me. I do suspect we are all here for different reasons, and my journey may not reflect yours. The beauty of empathy and compassion is slowing down to try and understand, and perhaps allow what/who is happening before you, and reassuring the trust of their path as solidly as your own. And if something is offered that helps inform yours, it’s like extra icing.
So I don’t totally know how to write about the human spirit. And if I were wiser I’d barf all this out, all of it, things I haven’t even written yet, and would let it simmer more and organize it and present it in a perhaps marketable lingo. But I am in a rebellious phase. I am being my strongest me. What we know of her so far. Them? Her. Open to exploring the pronouns, but I love being a lady. I love it. Always have. Periods and all. In the same way hippy folks discuss ONE LOVE, I think ONE SEX. But that’s a little too in the clouds right now.
Spirit. Sometimes, I have a strange fear that if I don’t ground and build more sturdily in the tangible world, that my spirit will be like PEACE and I’ll just die and it will float away to some other experience. So I’m trying to get my human body and mind to work with the wildness within. Use the power for good, yanno?
It’s sort of a wild experience right now. I have always wanted to be free in how I lived my day-to-day. I really enjoyed/enjoy working, but to sit in a cubicle felt like waiting. Right now, I am spinning plates: I am petsitting for multiple homes at once, driving for UberEats when I get a minute or have the interest to boost my bank, take TaskRabbit gigs occasionally, and am attempting to continue to take it one day/a few days at a time.
My spirit is happy. I’m laughing and being silly again. I’m loving on myself and other people, and my interactions out in the world have been validating to my experience. When does that happen?! Like I am being rewarded for existing. I can’t brag here—but it’s been good stuff. And unfortunately, I can’t hold onto the words for too much longer after they’re given to me because I’ve moved onto other dramas.
SPIRITUALITY. I pray when I remember to. It’s become more of a regular practice. And let me let you in on a little secret: the days I pray are a lot better than the days I don’t. Like the universe is like “you finally spoke it out loud—here you go!” For instance, I do get panicked about money. I’m 30 and don’t have much material wealth, and am somewhat struggling to solidify stability on income streams. I’m not mad at it, (maybe occasionally ashamed and stressed,) because I do feel like in order to build something wholly authentic to me, I have to slow down and listen to what feels right and what doesn’t. So my current gigs are stellar, but you can’t move too far ahead, and so far, I haven’t been able to get above a certain level. So, I pray. I met a woman about petsitting this weekend, drove for UberEats, then got 3 or 4 folks reaching out about petsitting in the immediate. I saw petsitting business decals on cars, and Lauren and I sparked an idea about petsitting business cards or flyers of these little animal art drawings I’ve been sending to pets’ owners to be a little silly. Because I am building for the long haul, I just have to make sure each step, like I said, is authentic. So, yes, I have ideas, but there are plenty of them and every part of my being would like to align before stepping, if I am in charge. (I can get stuck.)
It’s sort of funny how life shifts. I was always convinced I was going to be a performer of sorts. The whole acting thing… I just don’t know - I’m not certain it allows for a best self. Comedy? I feel like it’s a lot of navigating and begging for a morsel of attention. I can make my buddies laugh now. I can be fully present now.
Any of us could die… at any moment. I would like to keep stretching it out to see where I can go and what I could become, but, sometimes our purpose is simply to be and inspire others to do the same. What are we doing for others’ opinions of ourselves as opposed to what is whispering from within? It’s tricky. It’s wonderful.
My butt is sweating and I gotta get up to get a drip. Brb.
I’m back now. Light roast, a little half and half. They were out of medium roast, and I started this adventure with a hot dirty chai made with soy milk. You can’t beat that beverage right there. I loved a woman, (not because of, but enforcing,) who drinks a dirty chai every day. In college, I would skim close to pennies because I’d go for the dirty chai instead of the drip. Today, I get both. I think I am going to camp out a little bit. I picked up PLAYS by George Bernard Shaw, have nowhere to be until later in the afternoon, and am sitting on the damn stage up in this joint.
I look over to the bookshelf: LOVE THE ONE YOU’RE WITH is the first thing I see. Right now, I am loving the one I’m with.
This morning in my prayer I added in a sort of meditation where I asked to be a sturdy fortress of love—like I was my own mother, my own father, my own lover, and community, all here supporting me and ready to catch whoever approached. I have been to a few events recently and, at times, noticed I didn’t feel awesome and think I was able to sort of pin-point the differences: what are we doing for love vs. from love? It has changed some intentions on a micro-level.
Spirit. (Do I have ADHD?)
Spirit is love. I typed that without thinking. Who knows if it’s true. Humans have created so much of these structures we live and die by. It’s wonderful we’ve done something… but I think we know things have to change. The expanding disparity between classes. Men telling women what to do with their bodies when they have no idea of their responsibility in that evil. Racial tensions, subconscious biases, and baseline injustices happening left and right, perhaps caused by our own hand even. Political garbage. And then the emotional manipulations and power struggles that happen on a direct and interpersonal level? There’s so much!
I’ve always had a fascination for Philippe Petit, a tightrope walker. When I graduated high school I discovered a documentary about him. I read a book about him. In college, a few years later, I gave a speech about him. I’ve watched additional programs about him. (I have proved my interest, yes?) His gentle assuredness that he was meant to walk betwixt (GOTTA) ridiculously tall things, and his unbothered attitude towards anything else, sort of struck something very honest within me. Is that spirit? I bring him up because he popped up on one of the accounts I follow last night—some quotes: “I found out that total creativity involves a certain intellectual rebellion…not to become a criminal, but…you have to do things that are a little bit forbidden. You have to feel free.” … “Anyone that embarks into the arts…even….the art of living as an extension, will have the most difficult life because it’s opposite of lethargy and laziness and dragging your feet and dying as you live.... If you find the motor necessary for a great life, which is passion, you will have a difficult life and at the same time your life will be very easy in a sense that you will not have to struggle to find ways, it is in you, it devours you, you have to do it… using your intuition and your passion.” And then I have added this photo as my lock screen background:
Lauren and I have joked about being lightrope walkers. Lauren is a big spark into the esoteric world that I didn’t realize, in words, was within me. It’s been a real gift. *Maybe there is more than *this* already here.*
Yanno- this light roast… I might enjoy it better than the medium which I had requested. I have been off of coffee for a few days, mostly for it’s lack of convenience and pompous prices.
Just spotted: BRECHT ON THEATRE—THE DEVELOPMENT OF AN AESTHETIC.
See? I am picking up the titles, but to wholly dive into the words is another story.
Spirit.
I feel good about where I’m going. What’s happening. My mom is less naggy about my unconventionality, and continues to send me love and nurturing via text while I’m away. My dad is flirting with support in the “Screw the 9-to-5’s!,” which has NEVER been the case previously. I feel lucky. My grandmother, who I wholeheartedly adore, is still alive and calls me. My aunt and uncle, who are two of the greatest, are still invested. My older brother is the embodiment of what it means to be good and do responsibly because it’s just who he is. I’ve got friends whispering up from the edges who are ready to swirl together again. I get to hang out with dogs, and don’t have the full-time responsibility of having my own right now! Like- lucky. A lucky freaking ducky.
AND- I am letting myself be silly and have fun, despite of what is socially acceptable. I try to consider those restraints, but a free spirit gotta wiggle and shout when it’s right.
So, here are my guts. I want the best for everybody. I’d really like to acknowledge peace with what already is, and trust that folks know they can come to me safely at any point along their journey if they have questions or need answers. I’m a pretty excellent communicator, so if sharing the truth doesn’t get me what it is I think I want, I have to trust that it isn’t meant for me anyway. Not right now. Maybe not ever.
IN SEARCH OF THE MIRACULOUS- the next title I have looked over and seen.
A woman came into my bubble to look at the shelf herself—she grabbed one, but I couldn’t see which. She is sitting near, eating a pastry, and I sort of like that threads that have been, I want to say sewn, but maybe recognized, that are present now. As simple as one interaction can do a lot.
From BRECHT ON THEATRE:
”How ought they to act then?”
For an audience of the scientific age.
What does that mean?
Demonstrating their knowledge.
Knowledge of what?
Of human relations, of human behaviour, of human capacities.”
…
”What ought it to be like, then?
Witty. Ceremonious. Ritual. Spectator and actor ought not to approach one another but to move apart. Each ought to move away from himself. Otherwise the element of terror necessary to all recognition is lacking.”
….
”For this audience hangs its brains up in the cloakroom along with its coat.”
….
”Difficulties are not mastered by keeping silent about them.”
This is getting good.
Mucho lava.