Working on my Stuff: Fragility & Courage
I’ve had major resistance to posting about my personal life, but it’s through adversity that we learn, and I want to teach help you through your own. Please be respectful with this post.
Dian Reid has deemed June the month of Self Evidence + Authenticity – and asks her readers to write about one of thirteen topics. I guess this could come under Courage or Self-Awareness (or it may come under none of these at all).
This post is inspired by Hiro’s blog on fragility; gliding through the house of wholeness; reflecting on the memories within the ocean.
These are the waves from my own ocean.
I think that reflecting on our personal practise is a key part of living. As a Psychologist and an artist, I notice patterns and conditions regularly. The last couple of weeks especially, I’ve been in a state of vulnerability.
I was brought up in a house where showing emotion, fragility or questioning was termed “weakness” and punished as such. I remember being told off for crying too loudly one night.
In a couple of weeks my exams will be over. I’ll return home for the summer. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet; to seeing my cats and to the general rest of not having to cook/wash my clothes/get up early. However, I’ll be surrounded once more by an older generation- by those who were taught that you must follow the linear path (school-university-work-marriage-kids-retirement-death) and to veer from “accepted” jobs would be a failure.
I’ll try all I can to explain it, but I doubt they’ll ever quite grasp that I want happiness; not success: That I value my friends, sleep, health and freedom over wealth and stature; That I don’t want to specialise and become a psychologist and get my name in journals.
I want to write. Oh, I’ve only recently “realised” this but I want to write. Despite writing over 500 poems in a single year; despite writing a novel in NaNoWriMo 2009, despite starting 20 books in my lifetime; I’d never known it until recently.
I went to a careers talk at university, arriving first. The speaker asked me if I had any idea of what I wanted to do and it sort of slipped out. “Well not really. I mean I’m a psychology undergraduate but i mean i want to write a book…-stunned silence at myself-“
I what? I want to write? A book? When did this happen? But oh, it’s such a being of light in my mind.
In an “ideal” life, I’d go on courses and join clubs and fill my time with learning new things and art and music and dance and writing… I want to help others; to actually be able to care for those I love – for those who’ve lost their way and those who have no else to support them.
Yet I’m still in such a state of fragility myself; my projects to help others fall through – my motivation dropping as I realise I’m not in place where I can yet teach what I’ve learnt.
I’ve never been a patient being…
I’m not really sure of my footing, nor of my destination; but I’m following the stars and heading toward the sea. She’s singing tonight; reminding me to visit her this week.
I don’t have clarity and I’ll be distanced from support once I return home- but I’ll keep this constant courage, to listen to my heart, speak my mind when it matters and to put on my enchantress circlet and do the spiral dance.
“We want more than the wars of our fathers
And everything inside screams for second life
We were meant to live for so much more
Have we lost ourselves?”
-Meant to Live, Switchfoot
Comment Zen: This is my own process, we all have stuff, and please be respectful. Thankies.