Pondering over my ever escaping twenties on the run. Its like the gingerbread man, I'll never catch him.
I've only just started feeling right about being in my own skin, like I might even know myself alittle bit. Just starting to grow quietly confident in the little that I understand about the world, about people, family, friends, strangers, love, about trust, life, spirituality, the good, the bad...but most of all, if maybe still rather tentatively, about myself.
I'm not so shy to be conscious, awake to, and accepting of myself anymore - what makes me me. What I like, what I might dislike, what I believe in, what I vaguely don't. I have shaken off so much of the clashing and clumsy, mindless thoughts, strokes and flashes of conflicting colours I couldn't use to paint any sense with swirling ever so unruly in my head. The self doubt, second guessing, the undermining, the little old hesitant me.
And at twenty seven approaching fast at the doorstep of eight, staring down the dark and short barrel into my thirties - I see that its not about the destination or defining where the finish line will lie. An open ended question that you should never feel the pressure to answer...and the answer will never stay constant, or stand suspended in the still, waiting to be unearthed. Because the journey here was long winded - through some rad and wonderful trips, and some thick wayward back roads I wish I could have avoided along the way but - I am sure as hell now that there could have been no better way to get here, to be here, right now. Just a moment in a moving picture, one cut frame out of a myriad other possibilities, circumstances, ever evolving seasons and change.
I'm not so shy to be conscious, awake to, and accepting of myself anymore - what makes me me. What I like, what I might dislike, what I believe in, what I vaguely don't. I have shaken off so much of the clashing and clumsy, mindless thoughts, strokes and flashes of conflicting colours I couldn't use to paint any sense with swirling ever so unruly in my head. The self doubt, second guessing, the undermining, the little old hesitant me.
And at twenty seven approaching fast at the doorstep of eight, staring down the dark and short barrel into my thirties - I see that its not about the destination or defining where the finish line will lie. An open ended question that you should never feel the pressure to answer...and the answer will never stay constant, or stand suspended in the still, waiting to be unearthed. Because the journey here was long winded - through some rad and wonderful trips, and some thick wayward back roads I wish I could have avoided along the way but - I am sure as hell now that there could have been no better way to get here, to be here, right now. Just a moment in a moving picture, one cut frame out of a myriad other possibilities, circumstances, ever evolving seasons and change.
So now that I see the gingerbread man's still in sight, but quickly disappearing, I'll keep on chasing. Where's he going? I could sit and question, but I've learnt now there's no time but to just follow and run like your life depends on it. I never knew til now that this was the game. That it is, just all about the chase. That afterall, this is what your twenties is meanto be all about. J
I can't wait for 'other'. Love you
ReplyDelete