I sit here contemplating what the future holds. Writing in my calendar, marking the passage of time, documenting what I do, where I go, and who I commune with. It is not to control what I am destined for but rather to have a log of the events that have transpired.
Tonight I ride south. A week from now, I migrate again, and then again, and again. Flitting, like a butterfly, seeking the sweet nectar that friends and family provide as fuel for my adventures.
I’ve been in a bit of a hole, hiding and dealing with the emotions that have come up. On the surface, I am happy and carefree, detached but embracing, deep down there is a piece of me that is dark and sad still. These shadows exists and provide evidence of the work that I have yet to do.
The capital calls to me. So does my project, @droppinginwithhope, as soon as I have my mic in hand I will begin the journey in storytelling, sussing out new and different ways of coping.
We all experience darkness and pain, it is the way that we process and deal with these emotions that make all the difference. I could avoid friends and their messages, or I can respond and be vulnerably honest about this transitional experience I am having. That wayward feeling has come back. Slightly more tethered than before, but drifting, none the less.
Must respect my journey, to take a knee or drop into a deep squat, reminding myself of the power within to break the hold of darkness that threatens to hold me back. It will not get me, not this time. I choose these things, they don’t choose me. #findingthelight