CAVE
black hair tie, green and gold stud earrings
Journey
I have been taught I must have a plan. My Dad has been known for asking me, his other children, and the children of others he happens to be sharing space with, “What is your five year plan?”
He is not the only person to ask this. Maybe he is not even wrong in asking. The systems I have grown up in, that ask an account for my time, that say I must do something with it - something that is valued (read “monetizable,”“quotable,””successful”).
I have been taught to pretend that I am a linear being - able to craft the future as I want it without much digression to the left or right - a being of resolute and violent efficacy that sees everything that must be done and checks each box one by one, regardless of what life or limb gets in the way.
I am not this way. Particularly, in times when going through a canal or cave of life - where I am moving toward something, but the exact way is unknown and the time it will take is immeasurable - I am learning that I must feel it out, which means being painfully present.
It has been this way since leaving the structures that formerly held my life - since unfolding the religion I grew up in (Christianity), and leaving “the workforce” of which I am expected to be a part (or else). It has been this way since wanting to experience life and life abundantly.
I don’t know how long it takes or if I am going the exact right way. I strategize in response to the present. I bump up against things and correct my course. I use my voice to locate myself - is there agreeance here, does it come back quickly and closely? Too quickly? Too closely? Not at all? I do see a light in the distance. I may see a few steps ahead of me by the light in my hands. I am doubtful in some moments, confident and proud in others.
But most importantly, I just keep waking up and moving as honestly as I can, for as long as this body allows.
Invitation
Breathe.
Look or listen.
Feel what you feel and pay attention to it.
Wait.
How is life leading you to move?
