sensitive

Oh, it's June apparently. Hello, June. You're also the name of my cat. A feisty, fluffy, juniper-berry-eyed 4 month old.

I've decided I'm just going to be completely open and honest, because that's what I need to do. I'm having a terrible case of writer's block but I feel that if I just openly discuss my frustration with it, then it will enable my words to flow. It's helping.

One of the reasons why I've been having writer's block lately is because I have been feeling very perfectionistic (I don't even know if that is a word but I'm using it anyway). It's actually extremely frustrating to have this extremely "stuck" feeling when it comes to doing something, or writing in this case. I want to freely express all colours of my human experience, to erase the duality in my mind; to blend the black and the white as being equally beautiful. I can't merely express the light for it wouldn't be so without the dark.

In various instances in my life lately I've been feeling like I'm stuck in this giant pool of glue and I just wish I could swim freely through a lake of nonchalance. It's too bad, however, I'm really not that nonchalant of a person. I can be, but I'm actually a very sensitive person who worries needlessly about things that don't need to be worried about. Like my most recent fear of having atrial fibrillation. I've been having these annoying heart palpitations over the past year and a half. Don't ask.

I've been experiencing some messy in my life, but messy is a component of life, a fraction of this universe, a lone thread through the weaving of our cosmos. We wouldn't have real life without the messy, the difficult, the afraid, the uncomfortable. Why is it so darn scary to talk about? To admit? To ourselves and to others. We all experience the same things but in our own unique ways.

A major mess for me has been the various deep-rooted chains within me that I have been battling to break free from. There's been so much uncertainty within my heart's integrity and it's not easy. I know so strongly what is right for me, but there are just so many pressures and conventions in this society that paralyze me, that paralyze so many of us. It's all Divine and it's all perfect and right and good. It's a progress. A beautiful progress but, it takes time and it takes a heavy-duty scrub brush and hands and knees. It takes allowing the frightened child inside that shivers against the sensation of isolation. It takes quiet and stillness; breath and the welcoming of clarity found deeply, deeply within but always present.