I walked alone along a star lit path.
Frozen air kissing my face.
The lonely call of an owl echoing across the trees.
“Give in,” it says.
“There is nothing here for you.”
A rustle of the leaves.
The chittering of night squirrels.
“But there is…”
My eyes close.
Breath smoking away from my lips.
Snow begins to tickle my forehead.
Everything must die at some point.
This weekend was my first get away to the river for the year. It was somewhat of a struggle to make it happen, because people who fail to think their decisions through put a huge wrench in my schedule. My original summer schedule had me at my office in the morning specifically so I could go off-grid a little longer. But that has changed, and I will live with it. The run itself was good, very needed, but also very telling. One of the newer guides had a bit of issues due to someone being a bit over-bearing and guiding a crew that wasn’t 100% working with her. Sounded familiar to me.
But the sun came out just long enough to ensure that I got sunburned in the most awkward pattern. Stayed clear the entire trip, watched some careless activity somehow result in no injuries or death. And my GoPro stayed on for most of it. I still haven’t downloaded it to see what all I did get. But in all, there is still haze to my sight.
I lost another student this week. Brings me down to 5. I’m still trying to decide if I should cry or high five the decision maker on this. I was told, at the beginning of the year, to bring my numbers down. I chose to limit who I was taking on and let the numbers drop organically. Well, they’ve dropped. I know my students will be better for it, but I’m wondering if I will. I am continuing with open eyes, knowing the potential for next year. Trying to hang on and use this opportunity to learn and grow, before going back. But that train has been put back on to my own rails, behind my own engine car. I’m trying to flow with things, let the currents carry me, and do what I can to avoid the rocks. But that’s the beauty of the river; it can be the most peaceful thing on top, but filled with sharp rocks and foot traps underneath the water.
So my question to myself, should I go ahead and jump the dam, take the chance? Or play it long-term and save the grand finale for the end?
So, with my world in absolute chaos due to tricksters making evolution happen, it dawned on me that I’m having a creativity drought. It was thrown at me yesterday as one of my gymnasts let out a huge groan followed by a very loud “Oh MY god!!!” as I tried to wrangle her teammates into setting up our stations. Granted, my usual passion in what I do has been tempered by the adult realities of life and I find myself regressing back into a few points in my life where I felt my fires either being snuffed out or just quelled to smoke by a dump of cold water.
But in my time off, my creativity has been seriously stifled. I remember days where I could churn out poems, most of which made no sense, doodled new animals to life, or imagined symphonies that would make the masters weep. But here I am, grasping at what others have created, in hopes that it will kick my muse back to life. Be the lightening that rekindles the flames. But always, I come back to the person(s) that would rather let someone suffocate, just to see those lips turn black. Those who I ultimately don’t know whether I should pity or ignore. The killjoys.
She is right. And that’s what those people do, they make you question everything. Feel worthless in your talents. All so that you eventually wither away and die. The Echo to Narcissus.
Today I’ve been the social butterfly, meeting in the morning to decompress, get to know a new friend and mentor, and brainstorm the impending creation of my own coaching style and philosophy. Lots of words and thoughts throwing around in my brain. Emails sent trying to outline more and get support to make it all happen. Anxiety about the excitement and space it opens up for me to grow and learn as a person. Then finding the comfort of the full length sweater that I wanted to get months ago on clearance – in my size.
It’s amazing how simple that kind of comfort can be. Allowing me the space to gather some of my thoughts, articulate them and send more of them out. In putting together my application for summer camp, I find that I actually have to tell someone why they should pick me over people I don’t know and possibly have never met. I always hated these essays, not because they make me talk myself up, but because they make me try to convince others that I am more deserving and special than others who are writing them. I consider that a recipe for disaster, because it creates this expectation. Not that I can’t live up to one, but that I prefer to let my actions speak louder than my words. I’m human, I screw up occasionally (and sometimes more than that), and I waltz through other challenges like champion.
I still need to sit down and do my taxes. The city where my business resides has the most asinine rules for renewing licensure. It’s like the folks in charge failed to read the US Constitution to find that natural born citizens have to relinquish their citizenship. But again, I have to prove I’m a citizen. Despite everything being digitized, they can’t maintain records to know that I’ve already proven I am. Not only that, I need to find where I hid my login and password. Headaches. At least my actual taxes will be easier, just a matter of sitting down and organizing them.
Things, things, things.
As my business starts to take off more, I’ve found I actually need to create a public profile for FB. I’ve always much preferred to be as anonymous as possible, and to keep everything out of the light. Well, seems it’s that time and I’m having the most difficult time of it. I’ve never been one to stand up and go “look at me!” and here I am pretty much requesting it.
The most difficult thing is trying to define how the profile should be classified. Public figure, entrepreneur (I hate that word), fictional character, teacher, coach, motivational speaker….Seriously, too limiting and too much BS. I’m just human, and I do things that seem to help people out. Can’t say I’m anything overly special. Yet here I am, watching my center expand in its offering and watching my role in my community grow. It’s weird. Good in an uncomfortable way because it means I’m headed in the right direction. But I really don’t like the idea of going that far out of my comfort zone for all of this.
There’s also the factor of announcing things that I view as “just being”. In a society that values labels over everything I don’t like the idea of having to list all my labels. They’re just a factor of my life and my work. While I respect the duality/multi-facetness of pretty much everything, I also view that duality/multi-facet as being just an aspect of the whole. You can sit and separate everything out into its parts, till it ceases to be anything but a bunch of parts laying around. No one wants to look at the whole picture anymore. They want to deconstruct and judge, diminish, extoll, whatever, based on a single part. I don’t like the idea of being out there and being just parts. And I’ve been so out of the idea of writing and being a wordsmith these last 15 years, that I don’t know how to fully convey the entirety without sacrificing it for the parts. It’s one of the reason I had my descent into hermitdom in the first place. It’s quiet and on no one’s terms. It just is.
I have no clue where I’m going to go with this entry, maybe no where. I feel the need to retreat from this world, or at least this country. I’m proud that we’re finally waking up and the catalyst to do so was the result of the curtain being removed from around the land of Oz. And as always, there is a but here…
It saddens me, in all of this, to watch voices be silenced because of disagreement – even if they are of an opinion I disagree with. I’ve pretty much hit the point where I don’t feel I can even talk to most people, rationally, about anything these days. So I sit in silence, occasionally giving a thumbs up, going about my business, and keeping my head down. It’s not worth it anymore and I’d rather spend my time obsessing over philosophy and the trends of nature. But this is a trend. Chaos must precede order, death must come to make room for life. Just as the wildfires and floods cleanse the land for the smaller trees and flora that need the ash and space to grow, so too must the world of man exist in similar fashion.
There’s an extent to which I look forward to the cleansing this brings to the socio-political world, but it’s a question of who to trust in the aftermath and whether or not they are what they seem. There’s a lot of fog around me these days, physically and metaphysically. These days, it makes me wonder if it’s a sign of things to come and whether the idea of being a secluded mystic is more the path for me than being in public. And the more I contemplate the idea, the more life seems to work for me. It also seems to be the direction the universe is sending me.