#SundayStories Receiving … weird.

Did you ever learn that rule about spelling words with i and e in them? I before e except after c…? 

Weird.

^^^ So that rule applies and is supposed to make things easier for us all. Except the word WEIRD is also WEIRD because it it is an exception to the rule.

Receive is a word that has been coming up for me a lot lately. And it is one of those weird words. Follows the weird rule.

But it is also a weird thing.

It’s hard. Does anyone else feel like it’s hard?

But actually it shouldn’t be hard at all. Its definition is simple:

receive- v. to come into possession of: acquire; to act as a receptacle or container for; to assimilate through the mind or senses; to permit to enter; to be given, presented with or paid

So receiving does not imply or require earning, deserving, working for… you just simply are given, you come into possession of, you assimilate, you permit…

So you just have to allow it to happen and you will receive.

Why is that so hard? I watched something this morning that was about receiving and allowing ourselves to receive the help that is already all around us. It sounds so simple and to be honest I’m sure it really is that simple. But I also have experienced what complexities the path to simplicity can take.

I also reflected for a minute and realized that I have built a habit of not allowing myself to receive. Of forcing myself and putting pressure on myself to do everything by myself. To be independent. No relying on anyone because I can do everything by myself.

Then what happens? I have a chip on my shoulder when I see other people expanding their reach and broadening their horizons because two heads are better than one. I get upset because I struggled a lot when maybe I didn’t have to if I would express myself to others or ask for help.

I have this image of a door that I’m standing in front of. It’s locked. Behind it is literally everything that is waiting for me in this life. All the things I desire, the ones that come from the deepest part of who I am- my soul. The things and experiences and people whom are completely in line with my purpose on this Earth. All behind this door.

Around my neck is the key. Are you wearing your key as well?

I want to take a look at myself in the mirror and say “That key is not meant to be worn. Put that key in the door.”

Because I can break this habit. The power is mine to break it or to feed it. To allow myself to receive is to be in line with what is waiting for me. Right? Right.

See that picture up there? That is one of the greatest, purest loves I’ve ever received. My great grandmother. Thank GOD I still have her because I swear she reminds me every day of what it feels like to receive what is meant for you.

I can learn so much from that baby girl up there. Because she couldn’t even reach the door knob. So she needed to let herself receive help and love to keep it open. To let her life be flooded with all the great things in life.

I am taller now. I can open the door. So what’s stopping me? This is my question.

The answer… not sure yet. Weird.

Talk soon

B-

PS. This inspired me today : Showing up for life

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#SundayStories How simple is simple ?

Okay … I’ve been thinking about this one for a few days now. I don’t feel the same way about it that I even did when I wrote the title. But I will say this – simplicity is layered.

Simplicity is something … that has the purest of intentions, the clearest of executions, but in it’s development, is as fking complex as they come. I mean my god. Whenever you think of something – think of something now… something that you think is simple. Something that you might say oh that looks so effortless.

Can you grasp it?

I’ve got a few things…

A white dress

A black dress

The sand on the beach

A snowflake

Did you ever think about how many colors make up the color white? Every SINGLE color. Every single one of them. Black? Absorption of EVERY SINGLE color. How many grains of sand does it take to make a beach? So many that a number probably can’t even describe them. And a snowflake… well if you ever zoomed in on a snowflake you would see that the symmetry and the unique pattern, as unique as our fingerprints in that every single one is different, their intricacies are infinite.

What about this one? Wow they really make that look easy. 

Have a think about that….

A ballerina

A professional athlete

A musician

A mathematician

What we see is a snapshot in a journey of a lifetime. That’s what we see. It looks easy to us because we can’t possibly imagine or witness the eternities that have been spent on achieving simplicity. This really, and truly, blows me away.

And what blows me away about it the most… is how much I value seeing snapshots in the process where things aren’t so simple yet. What blows me away is seeing a moment of layering, where the intention becomes just that little bit purer or the execution a little bit clearer. What blows me away is realizing that this is what it takes to achieve something that can be simply received and understood as simple.

I mean my god, it actually makes so much sense to me now. In order for something to be delivered in its purest form, it must be known to the nth degree. The process or contents must be completely clear. So how can you expect for something to be simple to you if you don’t practice the hell out of it right?

But here’s my issue… when I was a kid – everything seemed simpler. And I thought it was because I didn’t know as much as I did now. Now… I sincerely question that notion. I think I knew everything that I know now and everything that I will ever know in my life. I knew it then. I can’t help but wonder if every single one of us is like that. We know it all from the moment we begin to exist. Because we know ourselves. And what this journey reveals to us, to some more so than others, is what we can discover by seeking that knowledge from the inside out.

Simple right? HAH.

But it really is that simple. Seek and you shall find.

There’s something else I want to share. This is what has really sparked something for me about simplicity. This past week… I had to ride the subway 3-5 times a day. And I was terrified. I’m not sure how this has developed, but I have become extremely anxious in certain situations regarding travel and enclosed spaces. Over the past few months I have become increasingly anxious on planes, subways and elevators. I’m not sure why.

2018 started and I had a training schedule that required me to be in 2 different places in the city everyday, requiring me to take the subway to each one and from one to the other. Loads of trains. So freaking many. And every single one was terrifying in it’s own way. I kept talking to Erris about it, and she kept asking me, what is it that makes you most afraid? I said “getting stuck”. I was afraid of getting stuck. Why? She asked me why. So I asked myself … why?

I really asked myself- WHY? Why am I so afraid of getting stuck… well that lead to – If I get stuck, what am I afraid is going to happen? Then that lead to … something bad will happen to me… and so on and so forth until I came to the simple fact that I am terrified of dying.

Afraid to risk my safety because I am afraid to die.

Well as soon as I figured that out, each time the train stopped (and it happened a lot – because there seems to be a whole traffic system down there hah – duh….) I went right back to that. That I am afraid of dying. But then I was able to recognize that this probably wasn’t the time for that…. aka death. It calmed me. Slightly. A layer peeled away. There was increased clarity and purity. It’s becoming simpler. Being distilled.

The distillation has given me space inside. Space enough to find a method to tolerate subway travel. And now I am on my way toward recovery. It is becoming simpler. So if someone came on to the train and looked at me they wouldn’t even know how much I had to go through to be able to sit on that train as calm as I was. You know? Because it’s that simple. But it isn’t really.

I think simplicity requires a process. I think we are born knowing it so deeply, the simplicity of life, because maybe as we grow, for me anyway, we become farther removed from it. But because we know it so deeply, we can distill our lives and hopefully, become simpler.

Simplicity is humanity in it’s deepest form, a representation of all of the colors that make up white; a formation of the grandest snowflake in the sky, a collection of billions of grains of sand on the beach. Simplicity, is the complexities of a human who is in touch with the deepest parts of themselves. Who is cycling, revealing truths, shedding layers. Damn, it’s unbelievable really. Happy Sunday y’all.

Talk soon,

B-

#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?

In the meantime

Sliding. Legs open, rustling, the sound of hands on paper- what’s that noise?

Clear glass enveloping minimal sounds and closing out the actual volume of outside activity. Rough. At times. Silence at times. Is anything ever silent or do we just become numb to things?

Isn’t there just … a constant humming… a bit of shuffling… a sliding sensation

Eyes closed. In my left ear I hear … kids laughing. They play. The hum of busy streets. Cars passing by.

Eyes closed. In my right ear I hear … buzzing, humming, stereo. Shuffling. Stillness.

A bug hits the window. My eyes open.

Sensation. Vibration. Transfer of energy. Being intercepted.

And where does it hit me. It is about me. This is how I listen. I is physical if its imagined – things go through me.

How do we listen? How can we open up in the listening?

In the meantime… there is something about the meantime that implies waiting. But what if it just involves listening and being? Why would we wait?

wait – v. to remain inactive or in a state of repose, as until something expected happens (often followed by for, till, or until)

wait – v. to remain neglected for a time

meantime – n. the intervening time or period, as between events

Well it just sounds like a waste of time when you look at it like that. Inactive, neglected – no thank you. So why not fill the meantime with presence and activity.

I am saying this because I have spent a lot of time waiting over these past couple of months. Battling the waiting to be honest because I am anticipating a series of events (that are happening quite soon – next week to be exact) and I am quite nervous about the turn of these events. So nervous that if I allow myself to think about it properly I could cry.

But in the meantime I still have to be here. Because they aren’t happening yet. And when they do I will be well able for whatever the present moment brings. So long as I am there in the present moment. Usually when things cause a person great stress leading up to the thing – the presence during the thing is magnified.

Well I’d like to take that magnifying glass and tip it right back to this very moment. And magnify the meantime. What would you do in the meantime, if you could see the meantime as invaluable?

*The excerpt at the beginning of this post was prompted in a choreographic mentorship called Make & Move by a colleague named Sarah Ryan. The rest was inspired by a good friend of mine, and by life as I know it to be (so far of course). 

Sometimes I get frustrated

I feel sorry. I feel sorry and I feel that I need to apologize. So I am sorry. I am sorry.

Sorry that I feel like I have figured things out and have allowed myself to compare myself to others because of the way I think and feel. Sorry that I compare my present self to past selves in order to force myself to continue to “be better”.

Sorry that I say things that perhaps I don’t quite understand because I am still attached to the idea of them. By this I mean that I really do believe the things I say and write about… but perhaps my lack of fully accepting them and surrendering to the simplicity of these things is caught up by how it makes me feel to realize that I am capable of believing things that go beyond what I thought that this life was about.

Pouring all of this out somehow makes me feel grateful. Grateful to the existence of everyone else that I feel the need to compare myself to. Not for the comparing bit but because of the fact that we are all here and that simple fact is driving me … now (since yesterday probably) to find space. Space within myself. The space where I am. I just am. I be.

If we can find the space where we can just be, if I can… and when I do (after the torture is over) then I can really approach every moment with no judgements. This is freedom of being.

Imagine a scenario where you could interact with a person as a completely blank canvas and yet still fully yourself. Imagine you could shatter the bubble (glass bubble I’m thinking) of the ego – of the idea of the self and the attachments that fuel what this image is made up of – and just be present with another being. If you could just burst that bubble and along with it any attachment to this world of dualities – happy/sad, rich/poor, fat/skinny, gay/straight, religious/non-religious, political/non-political. They are all one in the same.

They are all a part of this world that we as a human race have created. But what happens if you can find a way to acknowledge it and your place within it all, but remain committed to being here right now with no attachment to any of that at all? It is still a part of who you are but it is not you.

These are for me. And for you if you want. But somehow I feel I have to share them in this way in order for them to really be for me.

I am stuck on this – if I can accept now, then each moment is new and exists without judgement. If I don’t, then tomorrow is already filled with and by today.

Tainted. Why – when we are born a blank canvas… do we fill the need to fill it up? What is so scary about being blank.

Even though it is blank it is still full. Otherwise it wouldn’t exist.

Feeling supported tonight by the cyber world and grateful for that.

Talk soon,

B-