I feel as if I have been living a lie of sorts, distracted by what is in front of me. It is not that my talents are not what I present them to be, but the fruits of my labors have not been produced for so long, my materials feel as if they build dust. I feel drawn to so many endevors I do not keep my focus and faulter in my switching my focuses from one thing to another. Yet, in some ways I thrive off of it, the management of multidimensional aspects is what keeps me feeling highly engaged… or is this just what I have encourgaged within myself?
Being pregnant, puking all the time and feeling unable to focus because of waves of neausea became my norm. Now having E is my norm. I’m more highly frustrated and distracted and easily lead astray by the focusing and refocusing of my mind. In being desperate to not be tied down I have not commited to anything- a realization I was focused on dispelling before, but the convergence of my life with K’s and then the subsequent creation of new life in E.
My conciousness wonders at the familiar feeling of her face, as K’s held a familiarity in his visage long before one would think possible. Like a person was etched into our soul, a lockhole in the cornea long before the first time one gazed upon them. I seek to focus and lock into the first imprint, the original design for my life. This is the basis behind my fascination with Astrology, Numerology, Human Design and the Gene Keys. This is part of the reason I feel drawn to do life coaching is I want to help others find the direction they already have, here, within themselves.
This kernal is the higher calling that pulls my art from within me, as well. The desire to share what is within and trigger deeper resonation with the understanding that calls from inside all of us and seeks always to guide us, when we close our eyes and allow the prescense of what is within to speak and make into reality what is already felt, recognized within the barriers of our person- as we seek to make the inside come into view outside of ourself.
I have been focused on gathering the resources to make the familiar within cast in a vantage point that allows our being to fully see and connect with the brilliance we all feel resides within ourselves and the balance of every capability we seek to manifest bubbles from this internal chalice of Knowingness that presses past the edges of the experience that we have encapsulated with time as the border of what we can know, do know- limited by our perspective on ‘eternity’ we live with focus, because we cannot always bank on the story that there will always be tomorrow.
Something must be accomplished, left as an inscription of the time we spent here. What we leave behind in the feelings we made people feel, the thoughts those feelings and interactions triggered- what lingered and stayed within them. The inalienable aspects of the foray that is everything- that which disturbs the silence from becoming stagnant and suffocating all that struggles to get out from within. The feverishly triumphant symphony that tremors the very fabric of everything with its stammers of nothingness.
Internal quiet, the fullness of the void calling us to fill it with what only we see in the vastness, to linger on.
I feel like I express such prettiness, but what is the point if nothing is ever done with it? It’s just lays scattered about- occasionally being observed but not for any time of note. Practiced, I have barely done- the products I create created with trusted wrecklessness- my ambling delight in each moment the ruler which guides my connection to creating the best of myself into something tanglible to others. I feel as if the only thing with which I have been able to curry within myself surefire focus to cultivate and process into the highest design is taking one thing at a time, focusing, meandering on it and plugging it down and getting it out. The struggle is finding the chunks of time now that I am part of a pair that has created a third. Breastfeeding creates an interaction that I observe brings my empathetic interaction to the forefront and helps me culture my own creativity. Creating the advantage of the trust enveloped and faithful is the balance of what I oft find myself best to focus on. This chance to follow through pulls me forth into the realm of rampant delight, a plane of experience where my reserves are ever self replenishing and I am always filled with my life pulled afire, stepping forth with grace and ease in my every exsertion.
I feel as with my writing, the more I let it build, the better it may sound in moments on the tounge, but it seems it gets lost in the transcription down into ledgable form. I find myself lost in the meandering from topic to topic triggered by the flow of thoughts going so much faster from within- as if I have tapped into some stream of conciousness transcendant to my own and am merely trying to commuincate it so others can experience this transcendant joy along with me- so there can be the same quickening and focusing that leads to deep feelings of release within themselves as well.
This is why in the past many years my go to mode of connection has been face to face- where others can be attuned to with greater ease and I can reflect what I feel off them back to them with amplified clarity. The issues I have run into is finding reflections back to myself I find useful. But what is usefulness defined in this manner? What makes me happy? Makes me feel seen in the ways I want to be seen? Why would not anything reflected back to me be useful as a present moment assessment tool, to better guide and gauge my vantage and projection point, my emotional balance point- my ability to be lifted to the sights set by my vibrational desires.
The visions of what I am here to create feels so multudinous that it floods me with awe so as I often find myself staggering back, shocked by the frequency makes me partialy numb.
Though, as I look around the life I have manifested- my beautiful child with the man that no matter what always creeped back into my thoughts to the way that our realtionship is something I remember describing once to my sister once when I was so upset and snarky I felt like a tarot card stating the facts of my own story to myself. Yet, there is at the core of it- there is love. Surrendered, open, creative, patient. Love. The rote actions and patterns involved in raising a little one and establishing a structured and flowing home that is also a creative space is unfurling as well. Recently, I find myself being called to relive my experience in Bloomington, a place I for so long sought to flee at the faastest rate possible for so long- or I lemented that I was stuck here. Now, I chose to move here. And there are parts of me that are kicking myself, but at the same time I am enjoying being here, in this space. The windows are so nice and while it is hot, it is not as bad as I remember. There are more trees. Say this one more time- there are more trees. I don’t know if this is true to others or if this is something I have the ability to notice only because of my absecense… but there are more trees, bigger trees. Life always wins. At least for now.
The fact that I have chosen to come back here is a choice that seems odd in one way, in another way- it is the end to a resistance. A rebalancing of too much held onto sorrow where there could be the choice for joy and abundance of fascination and creative drive. I feel myself fumble and jerk out these words, awkward yet habitutal. I don’t quite feel them. Ha. And everyone who reads this will feel it. I don’t have an answer right now, completely as to why we moved back other than it felt right. It felt the time and the appropriate cercimstances sorta came together. Sorta. There still has been struggle. There has also been peace and the feeling of progress. Moments of triumphant enjoyment of differernt means. I observe in my history of thoughts how the exact situation and timeline I am in is what is. I guess, ha. I am seeking some better coherency within myself and I’m retracing my steps to find out what went so sour and redo it better. Believe that I can. Be that I can. Show me that I see that I can. I can is the point. I can.