Browsing Tag

brave

Brave, emotions, Wild Woman

Fear or Passion?

May 24, 2010

“If we don’t offer ourselves to the unknown, our senses dull. Our world becomes small and we lose our sense of wonder. Our eyes don’t lift to the horizon; our ears don’t hear the sounds around us. The edge is off our experience, and we pass our days in a routine that is both comfortable and limiting. We wake up one day and find that we have lost our dreams in order to protect our days.” – Kent Nerburn

 

monkey treeIt is possible to have an epiphany while watching daytime television. I had one this morning.  Stephen Fry was being interviewed about a program he has made about the music of Wager.  He said that when he hears Wagner, he has a physical reaction, much like the one you get when you are at the dentist and they hit a nerve and your whole body gets a jolt.  My first thought:  I don’t feel that way about anything.  My epiphany: maybe it’s reversable.

I need to say that I am not a cold fish; I do feel things very strongly.  The physical feelings of fear and passion, however, are very similar.  This morning I wondered if there have been times when I have mistaken one for the other.  To allow something external to have the effect of a jolt of energy internally is a very brave act.  To go with that feeling right to the end without running away from it or dismissing it as fear is downright audacious.

I have memories of being too much for people. I’ve been too smart, too fat, too messy, too loud, too old, too lots of things.  We have all had to quiet down, dim down, dumb down, slim down, or tone it down.  To stop being too much we needed to stop giving in to the bigger, brighter, bolder impulses. Passion and excitement began to make us nervous, and perhaps it was there that the feelings got muddled.

Nerves or excitement? Fear or passion? Jolts of energy. Un-swallowed tears. It’s time to remember.  It’s time to let go.  I want a good old big fat lump in my throat and I want me some healthy goosebumps.  Passion, you are officially invited back in to my life.

(Good news: I got a healthy shiver down my spine just typing this! RRrrooooaaaRRrrr.)

xo

I Think Too Much, Wild Woman

Grounded.

March 4, 2010

“There is a lot to be said for pinning things to the earth so they don’t follow us around.  There is a lot to be said for laying them to rest.” – Clarissa Pinkola Estes

 

DSC02144 copy You are grounded.

Do you hear me?

All of you.

All of the books that are whispering to me that they have the answer to all of my problems, but make me feel like a failure for not reading/ finishing/ doing them: you are grounded.

All of the clothes in my drawers that are sighing about the day that I will fit into them again, making me feel like a failure for not being thin: you are grounded.

All of the food that I am ‘supposed’ to eat because it’ll make me healthy and all of the eating plans I have made and failed at following, all of the diets I have tried and also failed at that made me feel like a pathetic fatty: you are grounded.

All of the emails I have not written back to, all of the phone calls I have forgotten to make/ not felt up to making that have made me feel like a bad friend: you are grounded.

All of the projects I have thought about starting that I haven’t grabbed with both hands, all of the guilt I have from when I have watched Lost instead of grabbing my creative dreams, and all of the feelings of inadequacy I carry from comparing myself to other people/ bloggers/ writers: you are grounded.

All of the crap in my head about not being a good enough wife because I am not currently a sex/ domestic/ intellectual goddess: you are grounded.

We’re done.  Do you hear me? I refuse to play with you anymore.  You are too heavy to carry and frankly, I am bored of you.  In fact, I think that the weight I try so hard to shed might be made up of you.  So you are grounded for the forseeable future.  You are not welcome anymore. I am locking you in the spare room and leaving you there until I decide what to do with you.

I am not sorry.

megg

Brave, fire

And she gets it.

February 19, 2010

“Believe me, the secret for harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and greatest enjoyment is – to live dangerously.” – Nietzsche

 

IMGP0746_1

I’m scared of the dark.  I’m scared of the dark, mushrooms, violent images, cooking, failing, putting pictures of myself on my blog, and so much more.  But another thing I have been scared of is quotes like the one at the top of this post: quotes that make you think that in order to live a “wild and precious life” (Mary Oliver) you have to throw caution to the wind, bite the bullet, and streak naked through your life.  Talk about scary!

But this morning a light went on.  In the spirit of my red year, I have picked up Sera Beak’s The Red Book again. Nervously reading it (it feels like a streaking naked book!) this morning, I suddenly got it. At the end of the introduction Sera writes:

“Ask yourself: How intensely do I want to exist?”

Click.

Yes.

Crap.

It’s not about causing trouble or being naughty or being dangerous.  It’s not about shaking other people up, or pushing societies’ rules, or reciting poetry in your pajamas standing on your head on a busy street corner while blowing bubbles out of your ass.  It’s about how intensely you are willing to experience your life.  It is about the choices you make in every moment of every day of your very own life.  It’s about being conscious.

I am ashamed to say that I have been consistently choosing the least conscious, and therefore easier option lately.  But is it easier?  In the long run is it easier to choose easy and then live with regret and self condemnation or would it actually be easier to make the more difficult choice and live with self esteem and pride?

How intensely do I want to exist?  How can I live dangerously on my own terms?  What am I going to do with my own wild and precious life?   I’m not sure.  I am going to sit with those questions for awhile and see where they take me now that I am not afraid of them anymore.  At this point even baby steps feel gloriously dangerous.

“Ask yourself: How intensely do I want to exist?”