from the desk of CHA🍍WILDE…
A part of me wants to control everything so it all makes perfect sense and slides into place and goes smoothly and I can feel proud of my clean creation. I can somehow own it and find security in what I’ve created. I can associate myself with it. My identity is wrapped up in my creation and therefore I want it to be perfect, without flaw, effortless and understandable. I want it to have meaning. I want to control the meaning so I like it and feel comfortable with it. This part of me feels afraid of losing control. She’s afraid of letting go of the reins, releasing her tight grip on the ropes she’s weaving together. She’s afraid of the ocean. The creative ocean will swallow her and everything she’s created and carry them everywhere without reason, without meaning, without order. She is afraid to be carried away into the nothingness. She’s trying so hard to create something she can hold, to care for, to keep herself safe in her focused attention. She wants something to hold onto and she’s afraid that she lives in a universe of sand and water, everything always slipping through her fingers. She clings and claws to everything in hope. Maybe this time she’ll hold the universe and it will stay still in her palms. Maybe this time the universe will make sense and she’ll smile in the darkness, radiating the light for which she longs.
She efforts to cultivate light within herself in hope that it may be enough to illuminate the world and give her sight into whatever is happening here. She’s afraid if she stopped trying to be perfect that everything would just start flowing smoothly in all directions and life would become easier. She fears this because it makes her feel small. She would have to trust the universe to hold her. She would have to let the life force flow through her and carry her somewhere she can’t predict. The unpredictable feels terrifying and exhilarating to her. She’s been trying so hard to protect me with perfection to give me a sense of safety, something, anything to stabilize us. If she didn’t have to keep me safe, if she believed that we were already perfectly safe, what would she do? She would make a mess. She likes the idea of playing with sounds and colors. She likes being a wild artist that is just as unpredictable as the universe. She can lean into the nature she fears. Unpredictability isn’t her enemy, it is her essence. By accepting this quality of her universe she can accept herself as part of it and she can release control of her life. She doesn’t need to control her life because it was never hers in the first place. Life doesn’t belong to anyone. We are life and we have the joy of witnessing our unfolding. We, the universe, expanding. Where to next?
