I have found aspects of writing and free writing here to be deeply healing, and also intensely challenging. Just how much in specificity do I want to show of myself here? I have, like most people, a variety of different groups of connections that know certain aspects about me, and others that don’t. I have compartmentalized sections of my life. This is probably pretty common, we all have our private lives. I’m sure there is a large spectrum as to what that means. I’m finding that there are maybe some aspects that I’ll really keep from expressing here on this site. Other times I think “Ah what does it matter? Talk about it all.”
Perhaps this is where art can come in. It can help us express that which we can’t seem to utter aloud to ourselves alone in a dark room, or to a stranger. When the exploding and ferocious force of accepting in totality all that we truly know ourselves to be is so overwhelmingly strong that we can’t bear to stare it in the mirror, art can come as the intermediary shroud. It can reveal in total truth, that which we will carry alone forever. It can empower us to learn to accept and merge with every bit of our own being. Art can transform the relation to our depths in a myriad of forms.
My past 6 years or so I have undergone a thorough transformation process. I don’t consider it even remotely close to halfway done, let alone over. Today I was talking to my cousin about some of the things I’m working on artistically and socially these days. He asked me if 6 or 7 years ago I ever could have imagined being where I’m at now, and doing the things I’m doing. It was a resounding “No fucking way.” I’ve really pushed outside of a lot of comfort zones I had back then, and the scary thing is I know I have way more to break out of now.
This tricky time thing is ticking and sliding away quicker and quicker and I’m looking to contextualize, regroup, and make sense of it all. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that.
Last year I did some things that are by a lot of peoples consideration unpleasant or judgmental adjectives. I know because I’ve shared those experiences with people I’ve met, or people I know and love, and been met with a lot of shocked or confused responses. I am dearly fortunate to have a loving and ever-growing group of people that genuinely care and love and accept me, including these things others find fault in. A real positive actually is that I have been met with much more acceptance than I would ahve expected, even from new acquaintances, on my unconventional decisions. I’ve grown a thicker skin, and learned to accept my traits and desires as natural, pressing out the stigma.
So on one hand I’m really learning about the open-mindedness and flexibility of the beautiful minds I encounter. On the other, I am facing a mini social battle against the folk who will never care to meet me halfway. I’m learning to walk the delicate path of my own eccentricity, and still live out loud and proud. In some circumstances I’m shadowing and masking elements of my being for the security of acceptance. I’m not entirely sure I’m anywhere close to decided which place on the spectrum I want to continue on. At least I know it is my decision what I choose to share and with whom.
Today this writing feels different. It feels connected, but also difficult. It seems like things are getting tougher to click the post button on. To let those of you reading a little deeper in.
Create Every Day