I had an experience the other night where I felt like I heard from my inner self, not through the layer and lens that is “me.” I heard my husband say something to my son Leo, probably insignificant and normal… but it rang out in such a way and struck me to my core. What struck me was a feeling of love that I’ve never had before.
Well, I probably have, but the contrast to where I’ve been for a few days was striking. I was just kind of stuck in limbo, deeply processing. After Thanksgiving weekend, I was really triggered by family… luckily I’m at a place in my growth were I take ownership of all that. It’s all me and my illusions and false beliefs about myself. Stories that smart like running into the table edge in the middle of the night, out of nowhere they catch you and sting.
So let’s talk about family triggers. Why they are the most infuriating…
You’re so excited to spend time with your loved ones, but the second you share space, you are right back in a four year old’s body. Seeing all of the actions, hearing all the words, that reinforce a story that has formed your lens for fucking years. Thank God I was left with the feeling of gratitude, because how else can these things get dismantled if you don’t see them or feel them. Get in down deep with them, take them home and sit with them.
When I felt that little touch of the true ME last night, and it stayed with me for quite awhile. It was quiet, serene, and so so happy. So in love, it was pouring out of me. I felt scared to show my husband this overwhelming love, it’s vulnerable. What a gift, to have this new set point. Or reset point. Now my actions will be dedicated in reaching this set point again, of nothingness. Of presence. Of no one listening, reading, caring what I do—only this inner knowing.
It’s funny, when I would write and rewrite my artist statement over the years, I would say I wanted to help people achieve self liberation in all forms. I never saw how much I needed my own. I thought the other day— there’s nothing I value more than my spiritual journey. Nothing. I can trace it. Through my art, through my breakthroughs… that’s what marks my life. Breaks in the inner bullshit. The prisons we create with our own minds and beliefs about who we are. Now, I realize that I’ve really been working to liberate myself.
It’s a destination that will stretch on forever, unless we decide that everyday we will live without caring, editing. Everyday, we decide to live without Fear of being seen. Where we decide that we’re good enough. Then, we become unstoppable.