Dying to write...

I feel unusually clear today. Conscious. Aware. I noticed it right after I got into work. There's shift happening. And I know it's source. Or sources. It's gratifying, terrifying, thrilling, moving, and serene even.

And I'm dying to write about it. Must do work. But had to put out into the Universe that I'm awake. Looking for the delicious moment to begin putting words to "paper", so to speak.

Eve of 39

On the eve of my 39th birthday, and feeling ambivalent. Growing older does not worry me... well, wait. what does "growing older" mean anyway?

Accumulating the years is not as distressing as accumulating the years and seeing each one pass as one that was not lived to its potential. Ah yes, that is what gets my goat.

I remember my roomie in college that cried when she turned 21 because she didn't want to get older. I wonder about that. Was it mortality that she worried about? Or independence and adulthood that she wasn't ready for? Most people at that age are so excited, they can hardly contain themselves.

39 years and my life isn't what it should be. Do I know what I want, though?

The rub, the rub...

Yoga Release

Last night during yoga, I started to cry. In reclining pigeon against the wall, resting a bit, I started to think about Okinawa, about the real possibility of going in June and thinking of the people that I long to see and started to think about cousin, Mayumi, who passed away over a year ago. I saw myself giving incense at aunty's house and I just started to tear. With my eyes closed and covered with my favorite lavender eye pillow, I just started to cry.

I then savored in the feeling of, well, FEELING. A tangible discernible emotion. Clear and strong. I was struck with the thought that these days, I don't feel.

Most likely because I am infused with more negativity, even that I keep at bay because I couldn't stand to be consumed... but it felt right to feel, though it was sadness last night.

I am bottled up, stopped up, faded colors of feeling. This must change.

Trying to reset

I'm tired of my life. I don't want to say so outloud because I know this is the life that I've created. But pretending it's okay or what I intend it to be demands a snort. It is not.

And "knowing better" than to vent about it, is not serving me at the moment.

The negative voices in my head have been getting louder and louder and are practically screaming. What's up with waking up berating myself for the previous night.... or feeling dragged down by thoughts of stressful tasks that await me when I literally wake-up.... I don't want to live like this.

And I don't feel like writing, right now. In fact, I haven't felt like writing in ages. Just need to flex the muscle.

Physically, socially, career-wise, relationship-wise, living situation-wise.... so much to be desired. What kind of manual could I write about ending up where I am now?

I feel like I might have a made a wrong turn somewhere.

I know it's not too late. It's never too late.

Just need to get my bearings. And it's too overwhelming to try and think about trying to change all of it, so it's one thing at a time, I guess....

My purpose. How do I contribute to this planet?

How do I bring unconditional love back into my life?

How do I bring joy in my daily life?

I wake up feeling a little disgusted, annoyed, critical, despairing..... I'm tired of that.

RESET.

Achille's Heel

Low self-esteem.

It's cliche, sounds adolescent. Yet, I think it can be the complete undoing of great human potential. It's not dramatic nor tragic; it's insidious.

And that is my achille's heel.

the unexamined life

It's been a couple of years since I last blogged. When living in Okinawa, I blogged like mad - partially to document what I was doing, partly for my friends overseas, but mostly to really delve and hash out the process, the journey....

Writing, journaling, is the way I examine my life and I often feel askew when I am not writing - on a blog or on paper...  I've been feeling way off for a while now...

Partly because as I was leaving Okinawa, I was so distressed emotionally that I had a hard time transitioning back to my life in the US. As a result, I became a bit of recluse. Then in the most symbolic way, the blog I had completely disappeared when some hacker sabotaged and destroyed the server that hosted my journal. I was not the only one affected, but somehow it really felt like my life and time in Okinawa, which had until then been the most amazing, synchronistic period of my life, was deemed insignificant.

It wasn't the primary cause, but with that erasure as well as the ties that were severed with the online community that I had grown to care about.... I became apathetic. Socially, I found myself disconnecting rather than re-connecting with my dear old friends; I ended up punishing myself, even as I outwardly tried to show an effort to start the new chapter of my life.

Well, it's now more than 3 years since I've returned and while things have been happening--not all bad, of course, I know I feel like I haven't been living. Instead, I'm drifting, and I know it and I hate it and I haven't been sure what to do...

Except to start writing. Starting the process of writing, blogging, to stare down the fears of examining my life. To face the truth: I'm not living the life I'm meant to. I'm not living the best life that I can. I'm not living purposefully or deliberately, but rather by default.

And I'm tired of it.

This blog may take many directions, it may stall, it may jump tracks, it might be my salvation. Or not. For now, it will be one tool that I hope to utilize honestly, and with possible witnesses. I intend to claim my power as the creator of my life. As cliche as that sounds, what I mean, is that I am trying to wake up from this coma and shape my life into one that is me, that reflects who I am.