After what happened yesterday, sitting here with fresh awareness, new perspectives, the permission to see my life — how it has been this far and how the future now looks somewhat open, yet changed — so differently, I am overwhelmed by a sense of newness. Even when I am not consciously aware of it in the waking, I can feel my head buzzing with thoughts, my body that unknowingly had carried the weight of a truth I was unwilling to allow it to feel has suddenly eased up. A weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has suddenly lifted off and I have become aware of it only in it’s absence. This feeling has occurred only too many times this year, and I feel fortunate for the newfound ability to feel things that my brain cannot explain, and the ability to feel my way through situations that my brain is unable to navigate. It has 100% led me to better, healthier outcomes that are wholesome, fulfilling and that enrich my life in a way no cognitive, intellectual, logical solution could have.
In coming face to face with the truth of my life and experiences, I have suddenly woken up to the truth of generations of women before me. Of the circumstances they have traversed, the experiences they have had, the fights they have fought and all that they have endured, walked through and held — all so I can have this life here today. I feel immensely connected to the string that binds us women together — a line of women so imminently strong in such unique and unusual ways. In so many ways, this feels like the inflection point in not just my own story, but in changing the narrative women know and believe. In more ways that one, yesterday felt like it was the day we collectively let ourselves put that burden down. It does not need to be carried on in shame and silence. The story as we know it can and absolutely must change.
And so, today I’m finding it difficult to just move on with my life and talk about the mundane. Because that is the power of articulating the truth — there is no unseeing it. Life, as you know it, is never the same again. I wanted to write about the books I’ve read this past month, I’ve been slowly chipping away at a long recap of the way this year has been, and I have been wondering about how to talk about where I feel I am going from here — in life, in writing, in work — and yet, today I am unable to bring myself to talk about any of it at all. Everything has paled in the face of the enormity of what seems to have opened up yesterday. Everything else feels insignificant, secondary and that it can rest.
So, for another day (or two or three or ten), I am going to just let the need to post go. There are bigger, more consuming things going on within that are drawing me inwards and begging me to conserve my energy.
Yesterday, I felt torn-up and a bit agitated within. A little fragmented. Today, I feel a deep, deep sense of peace and resignation to the way in which life is intuitively taking me through unknown territory. I feel gratitude for the ways in which I found myself here, and the ways in which I know I will be led on. So I am going to just listen quietly, and offer my silent cooperation.