#SundayStories This post had a name earlier… OH! Start as you mean to go on

And just FKING goooooo. You know? Just go. Go on – keep going.

Today, December 31st, feels like the start of the new year for me. I think it always has felt like that but I have not really acknowledged it until this year. But this morning I woke up and I decided not to treat it any differently than any other day, apart from I decided to myself that I would do all the things that are important to me and have been important to me. So I want to start as I mean to go on. This led me to meditating, writing in my journal and cleaning my room. But what it also gave me was a massive reminder – in my belly somewhere, you know that place in you that knows everything that you already need to know? The reminder? That I love to write. And I need to write. And it needs to be here. Shared.

Why? For me. That’s the thing … it’s for me that I need to just get these things out – I’m not sure who I am sharing them to exactly, but because I believe that we are all deeply connected, well I know that I am sharing it with everyone by just getting it out of my head.

I have been doing a lot of reading and writing over the past few months, but particularly the past few weeks. A lot. And I am loving it but also I am realizing… well that I really have no idea what I’m realizing because I’m reading and writing so much!! I haven’t been giving myself time to think… or not think really. Time in silence you know?

I have ideas about what I want this new year to be for me. Like I’m sure we all do. But I think that what I really need to do in order to have these ideas become reality is say what this past year has actually been like for me.

I have had my heart broken hundreds of times this year. 2017 – the year of heartbreak and surrender. Today I experienced one of the hardest of them all.

I woke up this morning and I journaled three pages in my shiny silver journal (bought from Tiger for 4 euro – amazing purchase to be honest, I love it). I am currently participating in the Artist’s Way – I’m on week 6 this week. So this morning I wrote that I’d like to go down to the basement to bring up my oldest journals. Because I wanted to go into this new year with all my journals. I went downstairs to the basement and they were nowhere to be found. My heart hurts as I write this because I actually cannot believe that 7-8 years worth of journals might actually be completely missing. I just can’t find them. My things have been through a lot of moves and reorganizations – 9/10 of them without me actually being around. So I understand it is hard to keep track, for other people, of things that aren’t yours.

But honestly, of all the shit I own, these are actually the only things I would save if this whole building went up in flames. My journals. My journals are me. They are meeeee. Me at 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, and now at 27 – this writing is my life. It is what I am here experiencing and what I am here to share.

God I could have actually cried myself into 2018 if I let it happen earlier. But as I sat there on the couch, sulking to no end, a voice inside whispered to me – “It’s in you.”

I used to write to document my life. If you want to know why I really started journaling, at 14 years of age – it’s because I was deathly afraid that I was going to get older and forget everything I have done with my life. I didn’t want to forget. Life, at that time, felt like this thing that was SO unbelievably amazing that I just didn’t want to forget a single second of it.

So I had to write it down. I documented my days, every single day. I thought that’s all I was doing.

But it turns out I was building a lifelong habit and I was developing a way to express myself, to understand my life and the world around me and to discover what it is that I am here to share. And I swear to you, over the past decade and a bit, my writing has catapulted me through life. It has become far more than documenting my days. It has become my lifeline, my companion, my bible, my escape, my passion.

How could I be so silly as to let myself slip out of this habit? I have. Gravely. Not the writing though. The courage. The sharing. The courage to share.

So here I am. Recommitting to that. And wanting to stop the bullshit of writing through a lens.

The lens should be my own and nothing more or less. I know that now. So I am done writing the way that I feel I should in order to communicate myself. I need to communicate myself in order to write the way that I should. You know?

If I think about it I could actually scream. Sometimes it seems so complicated to just be here. And then other times it seems so divinely simple that I become immediately filled with gratitude for my existence.

2018 – 18 is my favorite number. I really like it, always have.

I am terrified of myself. Is anyone else like that? It’s actually ridiculous to think that as much as I resist the things that I do in life – what I really want, believing that I can achieve, loving myself and caring for myself, putting myself first, being unashamed of who I am and what I do – that is how much power I actually have to explode into these things once I set myself free.

We all have that. I listened to a talk today – about how to love your relationship with money. I really struggle with my relationship with the green. I just have some beliefs about it that are preventing me from having enough of it, or any of it really.

So I have decided it is time for that to stop. During this talk I was presented with a quote by a woman named Barbara Starmy (my god my handwriting is not cute … her last name could be completely wrong and a part of me hopes it is lol … what is that ^^). She said

Your degree of resistance will be proportional to the amount of power waiting for you on the other side of that resistance.

Geezus I love that. I really do. So what the hell am I resisting? This year I have resisted change. I have resisted love. I have resisted generosity. I have resisted impulse. I have resisted desire. I have resisted self-care. I have resisted sharing. I have resisted belief. I have resisted faith. I have resisted acceptance. I have resisted forgiveness.

And I have suffered.

Now don’t get me wrong 2017 has been amazing in many ways. But that is not what this is about. This is about cutting through the bull to be here when 2018 turns and to reaaaallllyyyy be here. How can we go forward without first acknowledging where we’ve been right?

Well here’s my question – How the hell can I be here now if I can’t let go of where I’ve been or where I’m going?

So that’s where I’ve been ^^ You wanna know where else I’ve been?

Ireland. Germany. Belgium. England. Scotland. USA.

Daydreaming.

Afraid.

Purely terrified at times actually.

Excited.

Grateful.

In love.

Hurt.

Hurting.

Suffering.

Surrendering.

Welcoming.

Accepting.

Expressing.

Crying.

I’ve been there. You know? I’ve really been there.

I understand why people get tattoos in places where only they can see. Sometimes we just need something for ourselves. Whether it’s a reminder or a memory or a gift, we need something only for ourselves that stays with us forever. We can carry it around, knowing that it’s for us.

There is a flame inside of me that I carry around with me. It’s just for me and I never knew that before. But now I know. It’s not for anyone else because if I share it, they might blow it out. I need to keep this flame alive.

This year I’ve shared my flame so many times. Hence the heartbreak.

But now I know. So I will protect my flame and watch it grow. Because now I know that the warmth from this fire is enough for me and everyone I know and love. So I don’t need to expose the flame to keep everyone warm.

Happy Happy new year.

Talk soon,

B-

 

PS. I will be seeing you in the cybernet every Sunday from now on. That is my pledge to my flame. What’s yours?

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