#12 9/9
August 18th, 2024
Last night, August 17th, I cried to not one, not two, but three people at a party simply because I couldn’t hold it in when they asked me how I was doing. (Not a full cry but definitely tears—which I imagine turned my eyes hazel and pouted my cheeks with a lively, rosy flush.) The full moon's energy is strong, and I am not feeling very strong. I feel too much weight in my spirit today; in my energy and in my heart. I honestly feel like this is the most aware I have ever been of the complexities within the situations that are weighing me down. None of it is the most important issue ever. There have been more significant stresses. But I am at an age where I am emotionally mature enough to understand them as thoroughly as I can manage, and that makes these situations break my heart differently.
All that to say, I am not doing okay in many ways. However, it’s important for me to acknowledge that my family loves me, they are alive and healthy, and I am alive and physically healthy. People definitely process their lives differently. It’s all our own world, and we grant access to those whom we love, trust, and care for. Do we allow room for people to make mistakes? Do we allow room for people to come back into our lives? Do we allow room to be considerate of others in our world? That’s for each individual person to decide. And everyone will decide uniquely. And no decision is a wrong one, if anything, just a lesson learned. I understand it all. Remember—I see you, I see through you too. At the core for me is love. I’ll never say it’s more than others, nor less. I just know what I allow and how I allow it. I know how I feel and how I internalize that. One big, huge EMPATH. Goodness gracious, does it hurt a lot of the time. I don’t know everything. I learn so much in a day. I learn so much from my friendships. I am learning more about myself now than I have in years. I’m learning about the people around me every day. Isn’t that fair? Isn’t that part of the work we are alive for? I allow the lessons and I allow teaching and being taught. It’s what I am alive and present for, it’s what I love for.
I curled up on the couch with my mom tonight. Donna. Both of us in our loungewear, or lack thereof, while we bore the heat with no central air. I felt the skin of her legs on mine, and her arms enveloped me while I cried to her about all of this, and how it’s too much. Towards the calm end of the conversation, my mom remarked that life is so short. She has said it out loud before, yet the other day she noticed herself truly thinking about how fast life has gone by. I heard the weight in her words that I know she carries, and it made me want to hold her tightly, even though she said those words to comfort me. It’s been so long since I’ve cried to my mom in this way. And truthfully, I think I’ve been avoiding any real conversation with her for the past couple of weeks because of the weight I’ve been carrying. Avoiding being truthful with myself. Avoiding the words sounding so real and not just a daily vent to a friend (which is so valuable and important to me). Avoiding the healing work. My mom held me with so many words I needed to hear—stories, reassurance, and advice. My mom held me with her face pressed against my hair and her legs intertwined with mine. Amidst all of my worries, I remembered again where else I can learn so much about myself and my love and my life—in the embrace of my mom.
———(If you know me, you know my mom is my everything, and I feel so proud of that. Because, if you know me, then you know that my mom is incredible.) While I understand so much and accept the way things ought to go, it still hurts me. I am resilient, I think, because while I mourn and cry and lose inspiration and suppress and distract myself through it, I don’t let it change the core of me. Do you remember? Love. The embrace of my mom is my home. This realization made me realize I need to let myself be where I feel at home. Whether that is literally in my home space, on a walk, or sitting in a park, I need to embrace what home is for me again. The closest thing to an embrace from my mom is in solidarity—loving and embracing myself. The love within me is unwavering. Where it comes from, I don’t really know. It’s not a faith thing (not that I wouldn’t be proud of that), but it’s something different. Still, something I am so deeply proud of, so deeply grateful for. Life is so short. My heart just hurts. Still, being in a familiar place of hurt or sadness is never the same place I’ve been before. It’s always new, it’s always different. The place I am in emotionally, wherever that is, will always teach me a new lesson. It’s not for nothing.
September 3rd, 2024
My birthday is coming up—September 9th. September always feels good to me. It welcomes a new season, new energy. It beckons organization and clarity. I was born in September. September loves me. September allows for deep reflection, appreciation, and gratitude. For me, August ended in a place of confusion. I’d love to delete the entire month of August, from the first day to the very last. Just press CTRL + A and delete the entire thing. I’m being dramatic, of course. There were many wonderful days in August. And as a whole, the days in August have led me here: learning how to allow space, reflecting on my own actions, intentions, cause and effect, and being reminded of how small I am in the world. I’m finally surrendering to solidarity and rest. What is going on around me is much more than I can bear most days. So, September is when I reset. It’s time for me to fall back and spend my time alone. I almost forgot how much I love my space—sitting at my desk and being in my room. It’s time for me to focus on my craft now more than ever. It’s time for rest, writing, and rejuvenation. I’m exhausted, as I sit here writing this, from the energy I’ve allowed into my space while being so trusting, patient, and accepting. Ugh. I’m tired of avoiding my priorities for the sake of distracting myself from my thoughts. Sometimes, only in self-reflection and deep sleep will you find the answers you’re looking for. Sometimes, only in solitude will you find the clarity you need. So, I look forward to my birthday out of gratitude for my functioning and able body, my health, my family, and waking up to a new day.
September 9th, 2024
Today, the day is not going as planned! Like, in a ridiculous way. I wanted to laugh and now I just want to cry. Ce la vie! There’s so much to say about turning 27—I have a lot to say about my 26th year too. Here is not the end. I just had to get this off my chest. Beyond grateful.
A year ago today I launched my website, my blog, my online store—and my book. The poetry book that I worked on for four years. The process was long, as I worked on it while in college and took a long break from the process during covid. A compilation of poetry about heartbreak, physical abuse, my healing process, my rocky relationship with my father, my love for my sisters, an ode to my mother, falling in love again, seeking peace and balance. Earth to Infinity is the most special thing I’ve ever breathed life into. Today is her birthday, too!
Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to my book, Earth to Infinity.
Happy birthday to my mommy, my home, my reason–today is the day she gave birth to me.
*Song of the month: Pilot by Ravyn Lenae — I have cried so many times to this song.