The universe is such a clever muffin. I really shouldn’t downplay its genius by using words that soften my stance such as ‘clever’ and ‘muffin’, should I? I should be using solid words. Power words. Words like: ‘The universe is such a brute force,’ or something like that anyway.
It’s 2:21 am. You may need to forgive me a clunky sentence or two, but I’ve just been woken by the internal ramblings of a girl in crisis (cough: me) and that seems to be the perfect entry point for me to begin my blogging journey once again.
I say I’m in crisis because it really does feel to me like my life is a little like a china shop that’s been trampled by a team of angry bulls, but don’t let that worry you too much. Broken china scattered all about the place is about a million times more beautiful in my eyes, and so it is that the girl half-full enters the china shop to put you all at ease. I am not entirely okay. But I will be more than okay one day in the not too distant future. So there is that lovely thing to think about, isn’t there.
Having my china scattered all about the place has allowed me to see it in parts, and my goodness—what a shock it has been to find some of these parts. What a shock it has been to have realised that this entire time…I have had a choice. A choice to look out for my own needs above others. A choice to avoid overthinking and worrying. A choice to be okay with not being okay. A choice to say, ‘actually, I’m not okay with that. Perhaps we might consider doing it my way, instead.’
This post has been triggered by a dream. I’m well aware that there are many people out there who believe that dreams are just random, but my dreams have transformed my life in too many ways now for me to dismiss them as nonsense. Yes, some do seem to be random. But others, such as the one I’ve just woken from, are, without any doubt in my mind, meant to be seen, felt and healed.
Looking back over the years at some of the more traumatic dreams I’ve woken from, I can see exactly the lessons I should have received from them, had I actually paid attention and respected the power of the human psyche for what it is. Miraculous intelligence. We are fascinating creatures, guys. I mean, really, we are. We’re so brilliantly complex and amazing—isn’t it time we started to respect the power we all hold within ourselves?
The universe is a brute force. It will not stop until its messages have been received and processed, and so it is that I sit upon my bed in the early hours writing these words for you all to read. Now. Time to sleep. My goodness, I’ll be a little bit sleepy tomorrow then, won’t I?
‘Hello, Moon,’ said Sun, as he watched her rise above the sea to meet him in the orange sky.
‘Hello, dear Sun. Must we always meet like this? I’d rather hoped we might run, today.’
Sun looked at Moon and smiled.
‘Running is a human thing,’ said Sun, laughing at his fanciful friend. ‘If we were to run like the busy humans do…how would we shine as beautifully as we do?’
Moon thought of this and nodded. ‘Shining is quite lovely, isn’t it. Do humans shine like us, do you think?’
‘Some do. When they stop running,’ Sun replied. ‘And when one shines, usually the one beside them shines, too. So does the next, and the next, and the next until they’ve made a whole chain of humans as bright and shining as we are, sweet Moon.’
‘Oh, how lovely!’ said Moon, as she shone silver over the sea, wondering what a chain of bright, shining humans might look like.
It told me a story about the heartaches I choose to hide from.
Hiding is much easier than seeking, wouldn’t you say, on account of all the wrong turns made on the way to finding what you’re looking for. In my case, I am looking for an entire person (me) and so you can see how the effort seems a larger game than your average schoolyard version.
A soul doesn’t lie, is what they say, and I think they might be right about that much. When my soul spoke to me today, I had no choice but to listen (which is interesting because I am quite able to ignore my brain on demand.)
This is a little experiment where I will write. And I will not stop. Until I feel it’s time. Time, it’s an abstract concept, don’t you think? It’s not of the world, but also, it is. In an odd kind of way.
What is life, I often wonder. It’s the little things taken for granted. It’s the flowers we walk past every day, without looking. It’s me. It’s you. It’s us. It’s them. All of us living in a world where everyone else is so easily wrong. All of us looking for something more. Better. Free-er. Right-er.
A little bit lost, most of us. A little bit bamboozled. Unsure. Unsure and beautiful. Unsure and strange. Unsure and almost there, but never quite there because ‘there’ will never be a place we can find on a map. And if we do happen to find it, we don’t want it anymore because ‘there’ always looks better from ‘here’.
Nothing’s certain. Nothing’s true. Nothing’s right, nothing can be. Ever. Not when all our eyes are made from different shades of wonder. Different shades of serious. Different shades of true.
But one thing I do know is this. Life is beautiful. Precious. Mine. Yours. Ours. It’s safe and it’s unsafe and isn’t that the point? Isn’t that the beautiful part? The not knowing. The being here, the never really knowing where ‘here’ is?
This was a little experiment where I wrote.
A little experiment that will go on. And on. And on.