Warning: f-bomb ahead!

Most things you let go of, almost everything that you experience in a day.

Some things you hold on to, you stuff inside and carry with you.

Regrets are bricks. I was ready to be empty.

Be still, I reminded myself. Let the grasping stop, I thought; let the craving and the wanting stop, and above all, don’t run away.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Eventually, the small empty spaces started to expand. I felt exposed. I felt fear and sadness. I had to face my fear, to face myself, to look inside and see. I had to experience and feel for myself and not through someone else.

Was it surrender? Was I giving up?

I relaxed and let the sadness and fear in. I experienced it fully.

I didn’t run from it. I didn’t hide from it. I didn’t try to cover it up or make it go away.

I just let it do what it does, and I owned it. It felt like a fever. I burned with it. No one was there. It was just me. No distractions. I just sat.

And then the question: who the fuck am I?

The answer wasn’t terrible or tragic.

Fundamentally, I found, there is nothing wrong with me. I’m OK. I had a hard time nailing down exactly who I am, because, essentially, I’m never the same person twice. If I seemed like the same person, it was probably an identity I constructed, a mask or a shield.

I realized that I wasn’t my past. The past happened. Certain patterns where discernible.

But that is not me.

The real me is flowing energy, constantly changing and evolving. Always moving.

 

Love elephant and want to go steady?

Sign up for our (curated) daily and weekly newsletters!

Apprentice Editor: Emily Bartran / Editor: Catherine Monkman

Photo: Pixoto