releasing

It just seems right to post on this blog’s to-the-date anniversary. I have it set up to auto post, so by now I’ve already surrendered to treatment, releasing much of my day to day agency. For a while. For a constructive purpose, we hope. (I will have an hour or two of phone time everyday – I haven’t resorted to full monasticism yet.)

I recorded the reflections below a few days ago, but I wasnt sure they were really up to snuff. I talk and draw so much, even “good” stuff gets filtered. Put out what feels essential, and people won’t have time even for that. But after some marinating, I think I do like this as a bookend.

What I’ve learned this year, from watching my life through this self report, is that release is an ongoing process. When the heart is involved, there is never one singular send off. You spend your life letting go and letting go and letting go more. You learn that love is a debt, and make piece with the bill of grief when it comes. Over, and over.

You also learn, you cannot force yourself to let go. To release is like relaxing a muscle, but to tear something away is tension on both sides. Your body has to feel safe enough stop clinging, and flailing. That doesn’t happen when you believe you are fundimentally broken, that your heart will forever lead you astray. That is hell, and why would someone feel safe in hell? Trusting yourself is non-negotiable.

People will support that in concept, but 180 on you when you make a choice they don’t understand. They don’t see the water that guides the flow of your life. To them, it seems like you just dance to your own weird drummer, maybe sometimes it even looks like you fly. You learn to see the water, to trust it, trust you will float. Maybe one day you find the courage to try and surf those big waves. It feels as much like flying as it looks, if you don’t fall on your face. Which you will, sometimes. It doesn’t mean that wave, or the water, was just a delusion. They conventiently discount the times you ride high.

What you are really letting go of, is being understood. That’s what this blog was – is – really. If I show you all of my heart, with all the right words and pictures, can I convince you I am a well intentioned and loving person? What I did not realize, is that the person I would end up convincing of that reality – it was myself.