I know it’s not realistic to say but, in my stomach, I remember the moment I woke up and started to see the world as something I was part of. I saw the different shades and colors and textures and layers. And I told myself that it was all my hard work that made my belonging so. That made me sturdy and still standing and proud and brave and steadfast.
And then my faithful and true friend FEAR held my hand and accompanied me everywhere I chose to go until eventually I stopped making my own choices.
Because who wants to go where a torrent of anxiety and confusion covers you over like a lead blanket?
But waking up never subsides. The craving to know never ebbs. The fierce addiction to soaking up the truth never wanes. And I waddled forward, weirdly, and I non-chalantly strutted on ahead hoping no one noticed. Until I made it out into a huge, lush clearing where I felt the freedom to ask any question and examine any lingering mystery and then grasp and own any responsibility that led me to eventually, brave with SMILING EAGER-ISHEY DETERMINED EXCITEMENT—any storm that randomly happens to cross my jagged path.
Yours In Emotional Floppy Disc Immersion,
Nonna of the Nonstop Thinkers