It started like this:
There are times in life when you make decisions that lead to consequences so significant, so impactful, so enormous that they change who you are and what you know to be true at the most basic and fundamental levels.
I wanted to go from there and reveal what I had done to myself, all the wrong turns I had taken, all the mistakes I had made.
However,
the problem with that statement is that it implies that these moments, these decisions, are somehow removed from the overall experience of living. That they are special and far and few between. When in fact, this is just the simple and unsimple process of living.
What I have come to understand over the last couple of years is that life is a continuous wave of decision making and consequences – learning and unlearning – expansion and retraction – hubris and humility. It’s a dance we learn, a wave we ride, something that we become more familiar with and skilled at navigating as we, hopefully, grow into ourselves and become who we were always meant to be.
It’s been seven months since I’ve put anything out into the world and I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have written and rewritten all that I have wanted to say. How many different tones and textures these ideas have embodied. How many different emotions I have lived in the telling. I want to be every version of cliché and remark about how I have been afflicted with the dreaded writer’s block experience. How I have been too entrenched in my perfectionistic tendencies, been leaning too far into imposter syndrome to possibly “publish” anything. All valid and all true, but in actuality, I now realize that there was more ripening to be done before my mind was ready to make sense of what my heart was beginning to understand.
Becoming is a process, one that is not without effort and sheer determination, and one where every pearl of wisdom gained is a victory hard earned. And it’s because of that effort, that every time I blossom I want to shout about it from the rooftops – that when I figure out something new, I don’t hesitate to strip bare so that you can witness the journey I have taken. I so badly want to share what it is I have found so that you too can partake in the same glorious awakening that I have. However, I have also been learning to appreciate the how and the when of the waiting – the power that comes with honing my patience – reckoning with the need to tell it all, tell it loud, and tell it right now. Beginning to recognize when it’s a good idea to take a step back, take a breath, and pause – not forever, but for a time – has made me wiser about when to share and when to hold back.
So, after pausing, pondering, and dipping my toe into the well of patience, what I would now like to say is this:
A long time ago I was taught to mistrust almost everything about myself. And this mustrust led to the creation of stories, ones that I have carried with me most of my life.
Can’t trust my emotions – The story: they burn too hot and too frequently, and are thus a burden to myself and those around me.
Can’t trust my passion – The story: it is egregious and leads to hasty decision making, and is thus a burden to myself and those around me.
Can’t trust my mind – The story: it worries and meddles and is too irrational, and is thus a burden to myself and those around me.
Can’t trust my body – The story: it needs to be controlled and contained or it will lead me astray, and is thus a burden to myself and those around me.
Can’t trust my hunger – The story: it is too voracious and unbecoming of my sex, and is thus a burden to myself and those around me.
I could go on, but why? I believe the point has been made. And really, it isn’t about these mistrusts and stories as individual parts, rather, it is about me as a whole. That I have lived most of my life feeling as if I am a burden to myself and those around me is the truest and most tragic takeaway of all.
For far too long I have felt that if I could only be better, give more, be smarter, be smaller, be perfect, try harder, harder, harder I would be fine – I would be safe – I would have made it – I would matter.
To say that this thinking is folly is laughable. Everything I thought I would gain never came, and only pulled me further away from myself. And in a world that wants us to remain small, confused, and in conflict with ourselves, it is so easy to oblige, living in the belief that we are never enough. That we are burdens.
And it really all goes back to that.
This feeling of never enoughness. That my value is inherently tied to my output and how well I fit into the mold society made for me, long before I was born.
I felt like I a burden everytime my emotions “got the best of me”. God you cry so much, you crybaby. Why are you so sensitive? She’s being emotional again. A burden.
I felt like a burden everytime my passion burned red hot. Why does she try so many things, love them all immediately, do nothing half way? You’re so fickle. You’re too much. Calm down. A burden.
I felt like a burden everytime my anxiety and OCD flared up and I couldn’t function. Get your shit together, you’re not dying, you don’t control anything. Just don’t be anxious. No, you can’t think like that. A burden.
I felt like a burden everytime I gained weight or my body changed. Just workout. Eat this but not that. You must be in control. Everyone worries about their body. Stop talking about it but never stop thinking about it or working to make it smaller. A burden.
I felt like a burden everytime I asked for more. Good thing you workout because you eat a lot. Ignore what your body is telling you, it is wrong. One must never let it go. A burden.
I have been waiting my whole life to be free of feeling like a burden – looking for relief in other’s approval of me and in how much I felt worthy of it.
Looking, looking, looking…
endlessly searching
in vain.
Until now.
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A long time ago, Rumi foretold of a field beyond the wrongs and rights of the human experience. “I will meet you there.” it was said. All my life I have been waiting for the other – the ‘you’ implying a we. The ‘we’ being myself and someone else. The someone else being my salvation. I now know, however, that the other I was waiting for all along was me.
“When the soul lies down in the grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other” doesn’t make any sense.”
Each other.
When you realize that the other is your true self, the one you lost so long ago – the one you have betrayed and mistrusted and rejected again and again – the one who has never abandoned you, who has been there patiently and impatient waiting, your perspective of the world shifts tectonically, and everything seems a little righter, and a little more certain.
The tough times become easier to navigate.
The franticness of the world settles a bit.
Gratitude emerges, more abundant and more often.
We understand that we were not and never could have been burdens.
We know we are enough.
It is not perfect and it is not all of the time, but it is glorious nonetheless.
When you turn inward and find comfort there, you don’t seek approval of others or their absolution because the soul, no longer abandoned by the self, is able to settle and just be.
When this happens, life has more purpose and the path is made clearer.
I used to speak about getting out of my own way. The implication being that I was the one holding myself back and to accomplish anything I just had to be more disciplined…
push, push push.
Harder, harder, harder.
More, more, more.
It was as if I was my own worst enemy and it would never feel any other way than that. It was dark, lonely, and at times hopeless.
But then something changed.
I can’t really explain how it happened and it didn’t just occur on its own. Like I said, becoming is hard-won. It requires sacrifice and patience, and it would have been so easy to carry on like I had been. And yet I couldn’t. I wanted to figure it out. I had to figure it out. So I made the conscience choice to try.
When I started, I never thought it would be possible to feel at home in myself.
Never.
But I do now.
I do.
It’s also important to acknowledge that this isn’t something I did on my own. I needed an actual ‘other’ to be the mirror I couldn’t seem to find. She was there and she led me into the shadows, helped me see my reflection, and reintroduced me to myself.
In the past I have written about stepping into the literal forest and feeling like I have come home. After all of the work I’ve done, I now recognize the forest is really in me.
When I step into the wildness of my own heart, not only am I home, but I am also finally at peace.
There is no greater wish I have for humanity than that.
Come, lie down in the field in the forest of your heart and be at peace.
I’ll be waiting.
________________________
To my mirror, you know who you are. Thank you from the bottom of my healing heart.
________________________
Stay savage friends and Get. It. Done. with a strong back, soft front, and wild heart.
If you’re interested in any of this, in my journey, my story, check back… frequently (ha!)? Much more meandering musings and kuhlhuman thoughts to come.
Also! If you have questions about what I write or even suggestions for future blog posts, feel free to leave a comment below or email me at thekuhlhuman@gmail.com.
You are enough.
Yes, to “to know we are enough”. A struggle that hits so many of us. Keep writing and know that you are enough.”