Making Room
being free stands on continuously creating empty space. this is where all creation, freedom, breath, true life comes from. by nature of being human there is an accumulation of stuff, beliefs, thoughts, feelings, things we hold on to, judgements, moments we wronged another, wronged ourselves, even the smallest thing – like quantifying someone into a narrow view, it makes us small, but it really makes us small. there will always be a need to clear out, clean away these deeds, the leftover energy of these deeds, these thoughts, these habits “i will always be successful, but only on a small scale. i will never be fully recognized, and if i am i will not be able to keep up with the greatness others expect of me.” there is a need to clear these things out if i want to live truly, or else they will run the show for all time. to get to empty. to get to nothing. because in nothing, there you are.
i see so much of what i hold on to, the pain, the stress, the crippling expectations, the addiction to perfection, or the pursuit of it rather, i see it all so clearly in this moment as a trickster’s tool. a little game i play to keep “busy”, so as to not truly put my heart on the line. it looks like living in a farce about the significance of life and the perfection i must achieve. it distracts me from the true game, the game that makes me quiver in my boots, the game of playing full out. the game of showing up without knowing how it will end, the game of following my heart with no guarantees for success (but notice, also no guarantees for failure). that is the true game and when i can get myself back to empty, when i can write all that out, all those things swimming around in my brain, all those thoughts, those remembrances of actions i wished i hadn’t done, the unhealthy food i wish i hadn’t eaten, the time spent on the computer, the attitude i gave a stranger, the fear i have of fully committing to what i want, when i get that all down and out on paper, and share it with me, share it with god, intend that all who i wronged know i am letting go, and i rip up that paper. i can get back to empty. i can get back to zero, that infinite place where stories and fears are not running me for the moment. that moment when my engine has been cleaned and i am resting, still, full of fuel, but no residue. i can see clearly that i love what i love and i want to throw myself into it. the feeling of it, the chances, the play, the making, the honesty, the amazing communication, the balls-y acts of public play, the self-expression, the responsibility for my well being, taking the space for me to be healthy, to have stillness inside, to be true, to be me, no excuses, take it or leave it this is me and i’m not changing for nobody.
