97 of #120daysadhana: How to write a book
I am here. Here I am. Today is a new day. I just got enveloped in a moment of compassion for myself. I can’t help who I am and am not. Everything feels really difficult right now. I have multiple understandings about why and I trust that it’s all fine and necessary. Just this moment I have this sense about how sometimes when I work so hard I work against myself. Also, the more I realize how much I don’t actually care or value the things I think I’m supposed to, the harder I work to hide my lack. Sometimes it feels nice to be home alone and admit that I don’t care. About anything aside from the things I do care about. It’s not really a rebellion. It’s just that I cannot care about too much all at once. And sometimes the sentiment of, “I don’t care,” physically feels just as good as the sentiment of, “I love you.” No energetic holds attached. Just a simple acknowledgement of a felt truth.
Finding I don’t care can feel pretty terrible and it can also feel quite amazing. Who cares either way? Probably me, I’m sure. Right now, it’s all about getting the funk out. Doesn’t matter what it is. Classified funk to junk. Moving on. Moving on. Midlife crisis, maybe. No. Midlife rises, yes. That’s it. That’s now. Only so much time to do what I came to do. Time to give up now. You know what that means. This blanket of time in the frame. It’s time to suspend for another script. A whole new cast and set. Or, perhaps a the same set, the same cast, but a new act. Who cares? I don’t know, not me.
Finding boundaries and becoming aware can be so harsh at first. What’s happening here is the innate desire to find connection to what I do care about. It shifts and evolves and while this is good, it doesn’t feel good to lose my connection and orientation. This is what I mean when I say I cannot help who I am. It sounds so whiny and dramatic, but I have to sit with all of it and write through it. The hard parts for other people never really seem that hard, because most of the time they are written and shared in retrospect.
I am holding on and trying hard to not let it all fall out. None of it is that bad, but it’s not that good either. Not not so bad and not so good enough to keep hanging on. There are natural processes for humans that we don’t really acknowledge enough to include them as part of healthcare or daily life, even though they profoundly affect how we interact with ourselves and others. Instead we disclaim, caveat and excuse who and why we are. I say we, but really mean me. I disclaim, caveat and excuse who I am, because I often don’t want to commit or be accountable. This is something that is changing and must change as part of the process of writing a book. At some point, no one else cares equally as much as I don’t care and the truth is I do care, but I haven’t cared or been brave enough to express it while standing out in the open. I can’t say I’m excited to post this, but I am tired of editing, waiting and containing. Physically exhausted and uninterested in working thoughts and sentences over and over to find a lighter way to express them, so I don’t come off as negative.
The truth is that I experience a lot of negativity. Initially, my mind always tunes into assess what isn’t right or could be better. I’m trying to find my way and how best I can contribute. That’s all it is. I know this. Yet, I still get worried that I am extremely negative compared to others. I can’t help who I am. Although, i do think that awareness and practice can help re-train my brain and have more compassion for myself. Sometimes, it’s less about changing and more about giving myself a break.
I am really tired suddenly and I’m not sure if anything I’ve written above is coherent, but it felt good to write. Doesn’t matter that it’s not very good, kind of fragmented and incomplete. Who cares? Right now, not me. Tomorrow, definitely me.
Completely,
Laura