It is time to fly

image via flickr, remixed by me.

This post originally appeared on Roots of She. But I am sharing it here as a love to myself. And maybe you need it to.

I got my period during Spanish class my freshman year of high school. Too embarrassed to see the nurse or ask to make a call, I went about my day as if everything was normal, even though blood was visible on my jeans and staining the jacket placed ever so strategically around my waist. Had my skin been a fairer shade I am sure my cheeks would have been bright red. 

Do you remember those years? How your body ached from bone growth? How you tried to surreptitiously cover pimples? How you doubled-over from abdominal pain? And how confused you were about yourself and how you fit in the world?

I do. And I feel like it’s happening all over again.

Except this time, the metamorphosis is metaphysical.

Tonight my soul’s womb is doubled-over in pain, my soul-limbs are achy, and my soul-face is frantically trying to hide its imperfections. What is and what wants to be are vastly different. My soul-voice is changing; words form in my mouth but are quickly swallowed out of fear of how they will sound. And what I am afraid of is not that others will not be able to handle the change, but that I am the one who will not be able to handle it. Yet I cannot go through my days disconnected from body, disconnected from self. I understand that this change must occur.

Is this how the butterfly feels?

There must be days when the chrysalis feels less cozy and more constricting, when bursting through feels more like stress than salvation. But oh! when she does breaks through, how glorious it must feel to fly instead of creep through life inch by inch. Now, that. . . .that is living: To be able to fly.

All change is painful. It is painful for the butterfly who must break through its shell. It is painful for the young girl whose body is metamorphosing into a woman capable of carrying life.

And it is painful for me—and you—as we sit on the edge of becoming who we want to be, who we are meant to be.

We are now too big for the chrysalis.

It is time for us to fly.

“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” – Maya Angelou

Fear and Deep Connection

Isn't it funny that when I'm reading a book on voice that I have become silent. 

The blank journals of Williams' mother no longer feel like an exhibit at which I stare, head cocked to the right, filled with pseudo-intellectual thought. 

They feel like my bed does now: cool from the emptiness of day. Yet I know that within just a few hours I will awake wet with subconscious. I toss and turn in the silence. Nothing is ever quiet. Nothing is ever empty. The heart is never blank.

The cold paper holds the silence of fear.

When I took that picture this morning I wrote

Lately, the woman looking back at me feels like a stranger.

And I am afraid of her.

               Afraid of me.

                       Afraid of who I am becoming.

                               Afraid of what happens when you break open and 

                                           parts of you appear

                                           and they are the parts

                                           that you pretended

                                           never existed.

The last discussion I had with Fabeku I said that I knew my Superpower. It is Deep Connection. When You and I communicate, this is what I transmit. (At least I hope I do?) But the thing about your superpower is that it doesn't exist outside of you if it doesn't exist within you.

Deep Connection.

I want to get to know that woman in the mirror.

What do you think your superpowers are? What are you giving to world?

Embracing

I'm being plagued by dreams full of hugs.

In one dream, I walked down an empty road, stopping along the way to hug people--old friends and old lovers.

In another, a young man I didn't know walked up, hugged me and began to cry.

And in yet another last night, I hugged someone I've know for a long time. But this time I allowed myself to fall into it. To feel the closeness. To sink into the warmth of the embrace.

What is a hug?

A hug is an expression of love.

It is given to soothe, to encourage, to say "I'll miss you."

A good hug is full, tight. Hugs are intimate; so much of the body touches. Boundaries are erased for that period of time.

So I'm asking you, as I'm asking myself in this moment,

What do you need to embrace right now?

What needs a hug?

Who needs a hug? (Maybe you?)

How can you fully embrace your life right now?

And

What would it feel like to be fully embraced by life?

You must be willing to be seen

"In order to leave a footprint you must be willing to be seen."

I am working with a mentor to discover how to grow my business and finding out that what this really means is growing myself--and then owning that growth, my "bigness."

I have not been owning every part of myself. The dreams, the titles, the experiences. I realized that if I didn't take ownership of these parts that I would continue to stay small, stuck in the shallow end, afraid to tread the deeper waters.

I sat down to edit my Facebook page. I added my education and my business. I owned it all. The pieces that I thought didn't fit (the pieces I wanted to hide) are actually what make me whole. Owning means to embrace, to love, to shine light on it. And in the light, I can be seen. I can leave a footprint.

The longer we choose to stay hidden, the longer we delay our growth. All gardens need shade, but there is no flower that can bloom in the absence of sun.

When you remember that dreams can come true

The past 20-something days I've been working with a group of women through Hannah Marcotti's Spirits of Joy. I've allowed myself to play: cut and paste, doodle, use gold crayons. I've gotten lost in the process, but found my way back to pieces of myself. Again.

5 Dreams. That day we were to write down 5 dreams. Sunshine, coffee, and a blank page--I wanted to feel inspired. Instead I felt nothing. ("Nothing" is also known as fear, judgement, lack of faith or hope). So I sat.

I drank my coffee.

I instagrammed the blank page.

I sat some more.

Then I closed my book.

I took a nap and upon waking it was as if some valve had been pressed. Judgement had been released.

Ahhhh.

There are no bad dreams. No good dreams. No stupid dreams. No impossible dreams.

No impossible dreams.

In high school I always dreamed of running my own magazine. 3 years ago I dreamed of writing for Stratejoy. 2 years ago I dreamed about writing for Roots of She. And despite my tendency toward glass-half-empty-thinking, here I am today talking with Jamie Ridler on her podcast--another dream that has been unfolding over the past several years.  

Manifestation, Law of Attraction, Miracles, Dreams That Come True--it's all based on this very simple and real fact: 

Your thoughts create your reality.

So keep dreaming impossible dreams. They can, and will, come true. 

I'd love for you to come listen over at Jamie's and discover her work if you haven't already. And in case you missed it, in this podcast I talk with Alexia Petrakos about the intersection of motherhood and creativity.