A History of Mistakes

There are some days, like today, when you can't help but look back and recount all of your mistakes. I know that messing up is how you change, how you grow, but when you tally up your scars and neatly stack the ones you've made on others together...it can overwhelm. It leaves me wondering how much of myself I've mistaken for debris and left scattered on the side of the road along the way. In this moment, I am acutely aware of my holes and missing pieces. What I cannot pinpoint is how many have been self-made. And what have I really learned in the process? The saying is that you are expected to "learn from your mistakes", but there is also the old adage of "history repeats itself". I struggle to understand how both can ever be true. I want to trust that my experiences have taught me a lot about myself, about people, and about the world in general, but I don't really know how true that is. If I am to believe that I have learned lessons, then why is it that I continually seem to be drawn to the same types of destructive people and behaviors? Maybe I'm simply too stubborn to learn anything, no matter how many times I make the same mistakes. Or, maybe, I choose to blindly ignore what I know to be true in some sort of vain effort to prove myself wrong. I've always tried to remain at least semi-positive. I cling to ridiculous quixotic notions, but secretly...I'm becoming more and more jaded every single day. I'll always find beauty in simple things and I'll always hope for a better tomorrow, but its getting increasingly difficult to find the upside of today.

woops

Its been forever and a half since I wrote anything on here...but then...its been forever and a half since I felt like my words were really worth writing. I feel empty. It is terrifying.

Be loved. Be Known.

Once again, I find myself lost in words not my own.

"Be loved. Be known. Love people and know people. Be so brave as to raise a hand for help when you need it. Make friends and make sure they know they matter. Be loyal to them and fight for them. Remind them what’s true and invite them to do the same when you forget. If you do some losing or you walk with someone else in their defeat, live with dignity and grace. It is a middle finger to the darkness"

There is something so moving about the things that Jamie Tworkowski writes...they always fill me with a silent ache: I want to squeeze him close and tell him that his words are my truth. There is something so amazing about finding your truth in the thoughts and secrets of another soul. I do not claim to have some cosmic connection to this man (no more so than the connection all humans share) but I feel like he knows me in a way that I can only hope to one day know myself. It is an odd the thing, to feel known by someone you have never met, but I haven't any other way to describe it. Whenever I need to hear/read/feel something (even when I am not consciously aware of needing it), he gives it to me. It sounds like a lot of pressure to put on a complete stranger, but it is exactly what we expect of a best friend. And even if this is only ever a one sided thing, he has saved my life in ways too numerous to recount. He writes that he is "less and less impressed by impressive things or people who are presented as having a lot of answers...". I have been trying to put that feeling into words for so long. The most beautiful people I know, the ones I like to surround myself with, are the ones who are unafraid of being a little messy. I am in love with the people who don't pretend to know all the answers and don't even want to. There is magic in letting yourself find out who you really are and what you really want. Nothing is perfect, least of all life, so why not enjoy the craziness? Why not jump in headfirst and eyes closed? It's okay not to know exactly what you want as long as you never stop looking for it. I am finally realizing that just because I'm not at the same place in life as my "successful" peers doesn't mean I am not exactly where I'm supposed to be.

"In the event we live to be old, i doubt our last days will find us aching for success or achievements. I doubt we’ll ask for bigger names or internet followers or virtual friends. If influence comes then let it come but it was never the point of the story. We will look back and smile at the moments that were real, the people who knew us and the people that we knew, the relationships and conversations, the days we walked together, the story that we told. We will consider the moments when we were allowed to show our beauty and our mess and the miracle moments when we were embraced by people who loved us even at our worst. And they loved us not for any sort of fame but simply because our stories had joined somehow and that miracle of friendship had taken place"

P.S. Listen to "The Immortals" by Kings of Leon. It's from their new album Come Around Sundown, and it echoes the truth in Jamie's blog.

My daily prayer.

Today, I will be fearless.
Today, I will say exactly what I think, I will be exactly who I am, and I will take chances. I will allow myself to make mistakes so long as I learn from them. I will love with my whole heart and I won't worry about what anyone thinks of my choices. Because death is only a tragedy if you have never truly lived your life.

The Morning After

Good morning sunshine
I love your face
Rumpled and red from sleep
Pour me some coffee
And forget last night
Because it didn't mean much
The sad truth is
Sometimes the truth just sucks
Hush
And play that song we danced to
The one that made us feel alive
And lead to
Hands clasped
Hiding under blankets
Over sheets
When those fingertips and palms
Were the only things keeping me grounded
And maybe, for a moment
I wished the night wouldn't end
But the sun is up
So we're back to 'just friends'
Dress me up sweetly
In your old clothes
I'll smile so she doesn't know
Running in circles
Crazy like we are
Don't hold me so close
Time takes us too far.

Freedom is a four letter word.

I feel like I'm toxic. Like every single thing I touch is destined to be tainted. I've been so...well, not exactly happy per se...but peaceful lately. Not everything was perfect, but it was perfectly okay. I should have known it was only the calm before the storm.

I feel as though there is a storm raging in me.

And at the same time, I'm in the middle of it. Lost at sea. Trapped in the torrential downpour and unable to find the shore. Sometimes, I quite literally feel like I'm drowning: I have to fight to get the oxygen into my lungs. Why can't I just let it all go? I wish it was as easy as that. My past is full of ghosts. They chain themselves to my legs and drag along with me no matter where I go. They weigh down my heart. Sometimes I can ignore them...carry on as if they weren't really there. But eventually, fatigue sets in. It makes me feel spineless; always trying to outrun my demons instead of facing them head on. Even when I do, I still haven't found a way to beat them. They clobber me from all sides until I finally retreat to lick my wounds, even more broken than before. It's an endless cycle. I want to know what it feels like to close my eyes at night and hear nothing but the sounds of crickets and wind. I'd kill to have to the constant pressure that has lodged itself into the back of my throat and the middle of my chest gone, so that I can know what it is to take a deep breath and feel release. Instead, it is as though everything I want to say, everything I'd love to articulate, is trapped. I am trapped.

I just want to be free.