As I write to you this morning, I look out to my left, and I cannot even begin to see where anything ends…and, as a person, constantly searching for the end of things, I feel comfort in the big way the world shows me, I cannot know. I cannot know. I do not know.
But what if I love you, and you don’t love me back.
If I don’t get this job, what will I do?
And what if I say this, and you don’t understand what I’m trying to say.
And if I did this, tell me….would it look like you leaving…in the end.
And then I look out to the ocean, where there is no end. The lesson again and again, that I don’t need to know. 33-years of proof. Every time I’ve given up my need to know, to empty my pockets of control and doubt…I am more than okay. I am free. Where I am? Is where I was meant to be, far before, and far bigger than what keeps me up some nights. Cleaning my kitchen floors at 2am, against the background of hypotheticals, the million reasons to not love, to not try, to not say, or stay.
Leaving is easy.
Well maybe what’s to be said, is sleeping alone because I’ve asked you to leave, is an ending I feel I don’t know how to change. And I look at the space where you could have been, instead of my needing to know, that maybe you’d leave anyway.
And it’s human-sized in the place I let it take up, and I swear sometimes it talks aloud to me. and so I choose no other ending, because this one, the one that ends in.
Is one I am quite familiar with, and very very comfortable with.
I’ve spent the weekend among sweet friends, bottles of wine, artichokes dipped in butter, and the complete and total absence of shoes or time. The types of friends, one can only find, when living in a way that honors and seeks…to be seen, heard, and loved….as-is.
It was a last minute trip, and those are the best kinds.
This morning. I woke up, in a beautiful home, alone. But not sad.
I woke up alone. And walked the 500 feet to the ocean.
I woke up alone, but did not feel the burden on the empty space next to me. And that. That is what happens when you believe a new end is possible, when you are inspired by, instead of haunted by, what you do not know.
I walked and walked and walked. Cup of coffee in hand. Soft gaze. Grateful.
I saw a few fisherman, and made eye contact. I wondered all about what would happen with the fish they caught. I wondered all about their lives, and how they ended up here, at the ocean.
I didn’t see anyone else.
My website is about to go live in 2-weeks. My commitment, to the truth. It wont be much different from this blog. Fancier. With widgets, and plug-ins, and a logo that feels really f-ing good. And as I round the corner of completing this process and have no idea how it will end.
I’m cool with that. Because I believe in what I’m doing.
And to take me through all the fear that is living openly and honestly, I keep hearing things to affirm. The truth needs a platform. And the end, you will never know.
This TED talk. http://www.ted.com/talks/clint_smith_the_danger_of_silence please watch it:
We spend so much time listening to the things people are saying that we rarely pay attention to the things they don’t. Silence is the residue of fear. It is feeling your flaws gut-wrench guillotine your tongue. It is the air retreating from your chest because it doesn’t feel safe in your lungs. It is the sound after the noose is already tied. It is charring. It is chains. It is privilege. It is pain. There is no time to pick your battles when your battles have already picked you.
I looked out at the ocean this morning, and the comfort it gives me each time, in it’s vastness, in it’s relentless pursuit to reach the shore, in it’s rhythym, in it’s non-apology.
And I wanted to feel a part of.
I looked around, and looked around some more, and then just said,
oh, fuck it.
I took off all my clothes and ran into the ocean.
I let out an exhilarating cry of joy. I put my head under water. I tasted salt water on my lips. And wiped salt water from my eyes. I was completely naked, vulnerable, and possibly, doing something illegal ☺.
But isn’t that it, you guys?
Isn’t that IT.
We learn so early. Honey, don’t say that. Baby, don’t do that. Sweetie, wait till we get home. Running naked into the ocean, is not a ‘thing’ and home becomes somewhere we close the door, to feel safe enough to express ourselves.
So as I’m standing there, just 30 seconds prior, right on the heels of this beautiful weekend, right on the cusp of my website launch, right in the overwhelm and honesty of not knowing the ending…there was doubt and panic.
What if someone SEES me.
Here’s the truth guys. If this beach had been filled with people, I would not have stripped off all my clothes and ran, arms a flailing into the ocean.
But you gotta seize those moments, that call to you. To be so free. To be so seen. Even if you’re the only one seeing yourself.
And in this moment, I am a part of the non-ending. The not knowing. And these moments keep tipping me closer. To what I knew when I was 5-years old, running to the ocean totally naked.
I am free.
I am not these hypothetical endings.
I am at free-will always to make a different choice.