Wednesday, May 18, 2011

epiphany

I realized with such clarity and solidarity today, that I am changing. So simple, but epiphanies tend to be. I desire different things, derive pleasure in different places.

This trip has been a strange experience. It hasn't been nearly as magical as I had expected. Inspiration has remained stubbornly out of my reach. It occurred to be me today as I sat and sipped a cafe con baileys - as yet another small but perfectly annoying event destroyed my sense of peace, leaving in it's wake a sense of lonliness, despair, and fatigue - that I am on the wrong path. I am a circle piece trying to cram myself into a square hole. I am malleable, though, and so with effort I can squish myself in there, but it's uncomfortable here. I am in constant pain. I don't belong. I am chasing my past.

I realize now that the lack of inspiration, the absence of 'magic', is of my own making. My own undoing. My own shattered voice trying to sing songs I don't know how to sing. I am wearing the broken glasses of my past, silently harboring the pain and trudging around lost, weary, and half blind; wearing the weight of my history.

Today I take those glasses off. I am sending all my energy out into the world asking for help, for courage, for strength to leave them off.

I must move forward. I will not forget my past, as if wiping my slate clean in order to start anew. It's not possible. It is written in celestial ink on my soul. Instead I'll review my past, read my books of history - and finish them where possible - until the story is no longer held in my present. Until the weight is gone because I can truly recognize, understand, and accept that though I may have once been that person, I am no longer her. We learn from our past, but live in the present. I'll write it out, speak it out, let it out, so it no longer fills me, but drains out into the cleansing wind. My history will be written on the walls of my soul, but, I myself, will be open and free.. and present.

Like the songs I used to write, let out, and finish.

The voice of my soul, singing to let go.