The world through my eyes now, is a great and glorious game.
It wasn't always that way. And I still have my bad days. The days when everything feels like it's crawling through your brain on fire. But, those days are becoming the exception.
Most days, I feel as though my life is speeding up. Not in a bad way, but like somebody figured out how to click the fast-forward button on my story. I feel as though I'm both jumping and already in the process of falling. A swooping swan dive off a cliff with my eyes tightly closed. I don't know when I will hit the ground, but on my way down, I am dancing. I spin in and out with whatever divine entities are rolling the dice from above. It's a sensual body roll, my attempt to seduce destiny. It's a neon-lit glance through the crowd and it's the echo of loud music that finds a home just behind your eyeballs in your brain.
I'm learning that love is not a preset skill in anyone's toolbox of abilities. I'm learning that love, is a language in the most infuriating sense. Just like your first words, it too must be taught. I'm learning that it's okay to take the time to teach other people how to love you, even if you know they probably won't love you forever. Because in the process of learning to love, we collect a few more words we can use to tell our stories well.
I'm learning that my future is not something I should fear. But it's also not something I need to idolize. My future is just what will happen next, thats all it is. I'm learning that it's okay if I'm not always planning ahead. Not always trying to predict the flow-chart of choices presented every second. That it's okay if I just say what I think and shimmy my butt into the next 'next'.
I'm learning that the only person I need to care about is myself. And yes, I mean that in the most selfish, vain and stuck up way possible. It's important to love others, but you can only love someone else with all of your everything if you have an everything to love with.
It's okay to validate myself, give myself permission, save myself. It's okay to enjoy spending time with myself, it's okay to wear sexy undies that no one is going to look at, it's okay to dance naked in your room at one in the morning then spend twenty minutes fondling your flabby belly because you think it looks kind of cute in the mirror.
The only reason I thought any of that wasn't okay, was because I hadn't given myself permission to relax into life's gravity reluctant freefall of a dance.
The moral of this isn't really any of these poetic realizations however, the moral is that I'm learning. I'm playing. I'm curiously exploring how to live in a way that allows my life to become art.