Disconnect

mabonThis particular blog is my personal space and as such, I end up having a great many discussions with myself here. That’s fine. That’s what it’s for, right? Please feel free to continue on as I journal through some current ravings.

I always view this time of year as the time when I begin again. Passing my birthday, celebrating Mabon, I work to create the space for the next adventure, the next year, and all it brings. This particular Autumnal time has brought the passing of a dear friend, the twisting of my vocation, and upheaval and chaos. I feel as if I have been thrashing a very long time, building some kind of whirlwind to sweep it all away. Instead of taking a lot of this into myself, I’ve been pushing, pulling, tearing, gnashing, wailing, and pounding my fists on the exterior casing of my spirit. I don’t like to make my fight external. God knows we have enough self-pity and complaining in the world. I keep my fight to myself, and wonder if the army will ever take a rest. mabon2

It’s time for some reshaping. It’s time to become the something that I’ve been working towards my entire life. I have no real clear picture of what that is, which is perhaps why I let the battles rage. There has to be a conscious stepping off point, a place where I actually can embrace what I am, shedding the final veils that cover my Will and my Beauty. There must be a disconnect.

In a flash, my mind thinks that disconnect is bad. No one wants to disconnect… to float free and limitless without tethers. We all appreciate being grounded. But, as I think about this more, I think it’s about a conscious disconnect from the efforts I place in the things that do not feed me: the things that are filler, fluff, and poison for the real work that I need to do. Perhaps the fear is that once that disconnect happens, I won’t know how to plug back in. Perhaps there is a fear that I won’t know what to plug into – I’ve tried many things – and the thing I choose will not fit. I know there is a Wisdom within myself that is whispering quietly. I need to find the space to hear it and to do that, I need to disconnect from the noise.

On the wall of my office, on my art wall, is a poster board of this year’s goals. No, it’s really more of a road map collage to remind me of the turning of the Year’s wheel, of the Tree of Life, and all its roots and branches that need to be explored. I’ve spent the past year preparing for and moving to a new place – new state, new city, new life. I’ve been holding my breath, holding my tongue, holding my self back. There seem to be two selves competing for my attention – the one that feels trapped and sad and stuck, and the one that is breaking its shell, desperate to breathe. This is the tipping point. This. Moment. Right. Now.  I’ve been trying to fit into a place where I might not belong at my profession, and have to understand that failure there is not who I am. It’s not a statement about my abilities as a leader, as a writer, as a creator, as a relationship builder.It’s simply not who I want to be, not where I want to be, and not what feeds me. Let’s face it, sometimes we try something that just doesn’t fit. Better to recognize it now, than to struggle for a year and hate every day I sit down to contemplate that day’s failures. I want to do something positive and building, and right. So, perhaps it is time to remove the chains, the plug, take the red pill, and with the help of my Morpheus, disconnect.

If I disconnect, I do it consciously, with purpose and vision. So, my next year will be about finding that vision and disconnecting from that umbilical cord that is slowly slipping around my neck. I will not let that which is supposed to feed me, kill me. Life is too short for the lack of purpose to overtake us. So, to me I say, open my eyes and live, damn you,  live.

pills

Finding Wonderland

 

One thought on “Disconnect

  1. Jeff mcmurdie says:

    You are deeply beautiful and wise. You are a lifter of spirit and mind. I find being in your presence is warming and real. I read your words and I get it, maybe too well. I fear the real me and often hide behind what the world thinks I should be, yet I love all that is wholesome and bright. Thank you for sharing, it was worth the read.

    Love you friend

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