I woke up this morning just really wanting to write and put something out into the world.
Sometimes I want to do this on instagram or facebook. Occasionally, spurred on by relevant events, I share. More (most) often I write or draw in a physical journal, or I’ll type in the word-doc-turned-journal I started for NaNoWriMo back in 2016.
I found in my therapy group this week that I still have this Hang Up about my experience having value and being worthy and safe to share. For example, my thoughts are telling me to notice the name of my blog – ‘Sleepy Equestrian,’ the about page, the side bar your eyes might be sliding to right now. To notice how those things don’t describe me very well at the moment, and therefore this is not the place to share. They (the thoughts) say I am lying or pretending to be something I am not, They say “wait.”
I feel guilt (shame?) over how much I want to share my experience and connect with others.
Holding space for these feelings and thoughts, allowing them to come up and be with them, and then to try and be curious about them – has been an ongoing project. But I’m doing it. Day by day I practice, I fail, I make progress, I take a while to acknowledge and celebrate said progress. But I’m doing it more often.
Having compassion for myself – seeing I am, and always have been, doing the best I can with the awareness and experiences I’ve gathered to this point, is another work in progress. It helps with that whole holding space thing and I’m remembering it’s also a practice.
There’s been a lot of discomfort lately, but it’s been around recognizing something is or isn’t jiving with where I’m going or who I’m evolving into. For a long time I was just trying to keep up with reacting to my life, so to be in a place where I’m actively noticing “hey, maybe I don’t actually want x” or “hey, this is something I seem to want more of” – AND making (sometimes hard) choices to honor what I’m noticing… is a big deal! I’m learning to be quietly proud of myself, and that I can be both ambitious and content.
Bringing it back to the beginning, something I really seem to want is to tell people about the shit I’ve been through, how it’s shaping me, that oddly enough some of the hardest things in my life have also brought me some of the best, and – do you see yourself in my experiences somehow? Can you relate? Does it bring up something else, are you looking at this one moment a little differently or will you knowingly or unknowingly push to make a tiny choice you might not have otherwise? Will our paths cross here or elsewhere?
Part of me still thinks it’s silly to think I could influence or connect to people through my story. This is a direct contradiction to the fact that I’ve had multiple speaking opportunities this year trying to do that exact thing, and I can immediately recall seemingly insignificant moments or choices of my own that were impacted by another person’s experience. As I’m learning from The Balance Within, our nervous and immune systems are intertwined; monitoring, filtering, translating all the sensory information we take in, whether we know it or not. And those two are influenced by and producing our emotions through hormones and neurotransmitters and tiny electrical signals all the time in ways I’m trying to understand, but wow is it complicated. And that’s not accounting for our conscious thoughts.
I actually think ‘silly’ is a cover-up for scary. If it’s silly, it’s small, inconsequential, frivolous. Scary implies stakes, risk, uncertainty.
And I want to do things that scare me (in healthy amounts) anyways – I have done it. Because of other people being scared and saying or putting themselves out there regardless, failing and learning and trying again. Maybe the same way, maybe something completely new and foreign.
I don’t know where the defining and refining process will continue to take me. It’s scary, but also exciting. It might be another eight months before I write here again because I know breaks from this heavy thinking/feeling are crucial. I have to do things like walk Frida in the crisp air and watch her drag limbs across our yard. I have to dance to music and hang out out with my amazing friends and curl up for a nap every day (which Frida has increasingly decided to include herself in).
It’s all enough.