This piece is poetry therefore we did not change the original formatting.
i’ve been asking myself a lot of questions lately…namely, “where the hell am i?” not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually (all the same thing if you ask me, but you haven’t so i’ll save that for another blog).
i’ve wound up on many an unfamiliar new york street corner, wide-eyed and soggy-tailed, forced to remember that i was never a great girl scout…“always be prepared” extends now to a change of yoga clothes and a stash of condoms…which, upon further, socially relevant examination, probably goes to show you that, in my short time as a daisy scout, i really got the point of all that stuff. you never know what life’s going to throw at you, so keep it real, and keep it safe. back to the blog. getting up off of familiar ground is unsettling, to say the least, but liberating in that it necessitates presence- awareness of body and mind in order to not topple over, or end up in a crazy relationship, or broke…we’ll get to that later. my point today is that no one told me freedom was going to be so precarious, so read on for my experience so far.
i’m watching myself more closely these days, and from a certain vantage point, i look a little…well, lost, actually.
maybe that was the point. not so long ago, i recall glorifying the benefits of getting lost in my new city (from the safety of my home, surrounded by my loved ones.) now that i am on this journey, part of me is not so sure; “where the hell are we going?!” she asks. well, thankfully i don’t have to grit my teeth and lie to my frantic self, just quote someone else’s line of wisdom that appeared in my inbox today: wise, wise angel o’ mine announced, “getting lost is not a waste of time.” oh, thank god…
although sometimes it feels that way, in a big way. the goal, i suppose, is to stay on the path.
to sit with yourself, all of yourselves, and listen. deepak chopra said, “great change is always preceded by chaos,” and i have to say this current current of chaos running through me is definitely playing games with my head. cyclically wondering why i can’t seem to sleep enough, or get enough ice cream, or find anything to slow down the thoughts, some well-trained part of me knows that i have to stay with it, breathing, in order to usher in the change that is imminent.
a common question these days, from the people i’m meeting in new york, to friends back home and even myself late at night, is, “so, why did you move?” i liken this urge to uproot and move away to a scout’s trek (this theme suggests that maybe i’m destined to be a scout leader…) through the woods: the pack follows the leader that way, and i see a cumbersome and mysterious trail leading…nowhere. i have to take it! i have to know what’s down there! and suddenly i’m alone on the path i chose, and it’s terrifying! but what i know is that it’s worse to live with the feeling of not having chosen my own way. i have increasing clarity around what is important to me and what i’m willing to do for it, what i want to do with myself in the long run (i’ll tell you about that later), and that impulse has pushed me here, into the rawness of my own heart. girl scouts of america…
watch out, here i come. you’ll always be prepared for wet, bendy sex. tongue. in. cheek…
this morning, as i sat picking apart every little choice i’ve made so far, demonizing myself for being human and a little vulnerable, i was finally able to wrench myself free for long enough to come to the conclusion that i was, in fact, acting like a dance mom to myself. i shouted at the tv screen of my overactive mind, “how about a little compassion, eh? she’s 13! going on 30!” and then i remembered an article that a friend recently shared with me about kicking bad habits (i would call judgment a pretty nasty habit).
the author wrote, “We do it until we don’t do it.”
a fairly simple breakdown of releasing old patterns through compassion. just like we have to trust our loved ones to get where they need to be on their own time, we must find that same trust in ourselves and the time it takes to get the lessons we need to learn figured out. all of our vices are ours for a reason: they are our greatest teachers. so on this ever exciting and sometimes treacherous path, i’ll hope for continued grace, and remembrance that:
the tremble of tears that shifts the ground beneath you
will make mountains one day
nature is at work inside of us
in light and love,
keep your head up.
Stacey Ramsower: I was raised in the Southwest, traveled to the west coast, Texas coast, Brazilian coast, and now reside on the east coast. My favorite book is “Jitterbug Perfume,” by Tom Robbins, and my favorite poet/performer is Ani Difranco. I thank my mom for always buying me pretty journals and always asking me if I’ve written anything lately.
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Ed: Kate Bartolotta