lately i have become very overwhelmed with the notion of blogging and sharing my inner world for all to see. when i first began blogging ten years ago, it was simply a nice little way to publish my poetry and small creations, and i miss that.
i have always loved the beginning of things: the idea, birthing the visible, injecting It (whatever it was) with some living, breathing personality and becoming fascinated with its new existence. i realized quickly that the internet was perfect for this. it became a wildly satisfying way for me to feed my craving of creation: designing, writing, curating, building — all delivered to me through the delightful medium of blogs and tumblrs.
then, over more years, it evolved into sharing pieces of my story, and so many lovely people asking to hear more; so many people eager to connect, to be encouraged, to share experiences and valiantly attempt to learn from one another’s mistakes. i adored it sometimes and hated it other times, and adored it some more, hated it more, and became altogether intensely fatigued.
and so – since summer, really – i have grown inwards in my little world and stopped producing, sharing, opinion-ating, expounding, advice-giving, and pouring out. i have learned to be a mother to myself and to my inner child, and i have learned to be content with creating very little. it is always during these times that new, tiny seedlings come bursting through the soil – now that the old flowers and weeds have been cleared and a re-energized space has been made for them.
the most beautiful seedling that has emerged is Desire. or maybe i should call her Awareness.
perhaps the most difficult thing i’ve had to face in my adulthood is realizing how suffocated my natural desires were throughout my childhood. there are various aspects of and causes for this suffocation but i think it is something we all experience to some degree.
growing up, the word ‘happiness’ was not allowed in my family’s home. it was a shallow, self-centered word. we must use ‘joy’ – something that is god-centered and is present even in pain. ‘passion’ was another word not allowed; ‘the heart is deceitful above all else’ meant that to pursue passions was sinful and of our fallen nature. ‘desire’ was always pre-fixed with the word ‘fleshly,’ and i was taught this always meant sexual immorality, greed, or rebellion.
i learned thoroughly and effectively that i was a dangerous creature, and my thoughts and feelings and physical responses were what would betray me before the heavens. the more rapidly i could transform into something other than myself (a quiet, selfless, godly woman was the particular goal), the more righteous and holy and pleasing and blessed i would be. i owed it to my parents, to god. (not surprisingly, this became a chronic beast of anxiety and depression lasting for many years.)
adulthood, even in environments absent of martyrous religious strains, frequently pushes Self down, down, down into the mud of standardized testing, resumes, dress codes, office politics, single-faceted careers, capitalism, and the harsh binary language of all things digital. it reinforces the mind above the soul, the end goal above the desire. compounded with these types of childhoods, it can be crippling and destiny-stealing.
i have worked ceaselessly for the past eight years to unravel these falsehoods in my mind, and replace them with better ways and truer things. but the soul? the soul is an intricate and delicate thing, and she is slow to blossom until she is sure she is not only welcome but desired. she is resilient but intelligent and so she will hide unless she is treasured.
and so, rather than letting the seedling of Desire slip up through the dirt and find her small place among the rest, i am giving her the first of my attentions and the first of my care. she must speak, and i must hear.
beginning on february 2nd, i am leading a book club at my home for danielle laporte‘s book, desire map. every spare minute of my day for the past two weeks has been spent tilling and inspecting and watering and watching this thing called Desire, to learn it and know it and grow it. i have been reading and listening to danielle’s magnificent work, and working through my new desire map day planner. i feel like i have been wandering in the desert and finally found an oasis crafted solely with me in mind.
my husband has remarked every day this week that i am radiant, and i have been eager to get out of bed every morning for the first time in months.
i have been shocked and deeply saddened with my discovery that i’ve paid so little attention to myself and how i truly, deeply desire to be. i feel robbed for being partially blind to myself until now, but i know that we humans are A Great Process and everything is perfect in its time. i am combusting with excitement that now i know and now it is changing and i am already morphing into More Of Myself.
over the next few months, i will be writing here what i learn while leading our little book club (something that my introvert self is somewhat terrified of doing), tips for being more aware of ‘all that stuff’ deep down in your heart and soul, and magical beautiful things that i come across along the way. i will document what i do in seeking to become more ethereal, wild, generous, earthy, sensual, and generative – my core desired feelings.
this is my way to be generous and generative — my way to give back, in gratefulness.