Scattered

Attempting to organize all the different bodies of work I do is a mess. I find myself doing and redoing; wasting time trying to make different projects make sense together. The only connecting line is me. I create and create and create to what end? For what purpose? To confuse myself and stress myself out? The only fruit this scattering of creativity creates is tension inside me. And, at the same time, I’m in awe at where this creative flow of ideas come from. They seem to drop in from nowhere like a gift, and I can’t help but honor them.

But, years of this has left a parade of half-baked children’s books, abandoned artistic career paths, a closet full of incohesive paintings, website after website after website……It’s exhausting. I find myself asking what is better? Not creating because you know it will end in a half Life, or giving it partial Life. Like an aborted fetus. Are those the only two choices after decades of the same results? In this world, success comes from consistency. But what if you are made of chaos? And what if it is through this open channel of movement where the ideas slip in?

I find myself wondering what is wrong with me. Maybe it is in the way I measure success. Maybe it is my relationship with success? Maybe it is the busy-ness I feel all around me? Is it perfectionism at it’s worst? Maybe it is the quickening of time. Maybe I need to take a break.

It’s All in the Name

The world had named me. It told me who I was, how I was supposed to act, how I should look, what I should wear, things I should say. It praised me, punished me, loved me, & shamed me. It told me which parts of myself were good and which were bad. I came into adulthood confused, which I believe is true for many of us. I began working to strip off the layers, the protective walls, that I had built up over the years. Each construct that had been built into my system began to bubble to the surface. One by one, I walked through each wave of impurity and untruth. And, one by one, I released them. It has been years and years of sifting through the muck. But, I have come to a point where it feels as if many of the masks I had put on to keep myself safe in this chaotic world have evaporated. Like water being purified by fire.

And I renamed myself, Kawa Yoda. River of Wisdom. River of Life. I baptised myself as a new woman, as the woman I was authentically meant to be. It is freeing to leave all judgement behind - judgement that comes from the world but even more potently from oneself. At times, the lovely me I had been for years, still comes to me frantic and scared - fearing vulnerability. She still wonders what ‘they’ will think of her. I sit with her and quietly listen to her fears. I often cry with her. And when she is done pouring herself out, I hug her and tell her I love her. Every single part of her. Then I wrap her in a blanket and stroke her hair as she falls asleep by the warm fire. And in the morning, she is gone.

I have a secret Life with the Universe. And, it told me to be intentional about it. I’m still unsure what exactly that means, but I have begun to feel that maybe what I am experiencing may resonate or inspire others. Maybe what I am is common and we all carry these secret lives within us. Fearful of expressing them authentically because the world may judge us. Letting that fear fall away is not easy. But, I have found this safe corner beyond my many notebooks of writings to express myself. And if someone happens to come across these words, and wants to come back for more, Here I Am.