This is me right now — wet hair, no makeup, and a tee shirt, living in a cabin without light switches or plugs. It’s me. I recognize this face. I’ve grown accustomed to the scar above the left eye and the shape of the nose. The freckles remain, but the little girl that used to live behind them is no longer visible on the outside.
This is me right now, trying to unlearn 40 years of conditioning and illusion. A brutal and beautiful process.
Awareness is increasingly creeping into my everyday life, and that shi(f)t is confusing. Watching myself become triggered and have reactions – something no person or event has the ability to do without my express permission. Watching myself numb or escape the pain. Watching myself choose suffering over healing. Watching myself effectively hate me. These things are no longer flying under the radar.
There are days I slip into worrying that my mind isn’t developed enough for this like I’m behind in human evolution. I have to talk to my thoughts. I have to remember who I am. I have to be okay to sit in the dumpster fire that rages between my ears. Just be in it without trying to change it because I am not my thoughts, and I am not this body. I am often being thought, and I mistake being in my body for being the body.
So then, who is I? Just who the fuck am I?
The fire rages.
This is just where I’m at right now. And that’s got to be a good sign because I know after a fire comes death and then rebirth.
I’m really a Phoenix. And so are you.
Bring the fire.
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