Somebody called me a living rainbow today. Actually, they said, “I think you are a rainbow come to life.”
A rainbow come to life. That’s something amazing.
I needed to stop and feel that. Rest. Be with the birds. Be as much a part of the sky as I could – a hammock is good for that.
Being light. Being lightness. Bending light to color.
I’d been feeling heavy, burdened with sorrow and anxiety and grief. I’d been trying to plow through the feelings, and I knew, the only thing I could really do was slow down.
I’m trying to slow down and feel the feelings. Allow feelings to have their experience, allow myself to have the experience.
Allow light to move through me while feeling the feelings.
The thing about making art, the thing about creating something – sometimes I don’t always have the words. I might have the action though, the color, the movement. And the words I can’t speak, I can write. Writing is an action, a movement. I don’t know what is going to come out, that’s the best. When it flows.
And sometimes, before the next action, I just have to stop. Assess where the heck I am. Feel whatever is going on in my physical body, my mental body, my light body. Space and time – I need a lot of space and time cushion.
Whatever is going on with that, with the slowness – I’ve got to trust it’s ok. I trust it’s ok.
It’s amazing to realize I am building endurance for feeling my feelings without shame, guilt, or self-loathing.
Acceptance of myself is incremental and expansive and on the edges, at first, uncomfortable. That is why I write and share about it.
We are all light. I love remembering that.
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April 7, 2023
Brooklyn, New York