Do you ever feel like slapping that side of yourself that won’t get out of your way? Sometimes it calls you names and makes fun of your dreams. Sometimes it won’t move its lazy ass off the couch.
I thought I wouldn’t write a post here today so I could focus on my novel, but here we are, no words written and the same old block sitting here holding my keyboard hostage. That block is me.
I don’t know about you, but I google these things when I’m feeling lost.
Nothing I read did much to move my thoughts forward. So, as a philosopher with half of a class under her belt, maybe we can break down the word war. How do wars typically end? Can I use this to discover something that will help?
Oof. Most wars end with a military defeat. I decided to take this to a trail and see what I could come up with. I loaded up the pup and headed to Jack’s Bay. As we started down the path to a gorgeous desert beach, I wondered why I hadn’t been hiking much lately. The answer was immediate. It’s because I’ve been focusing on how things look.
I hiked nearly every day in 2020 and into 2021. Then it happened. I looked at what the Caribbean sun had done to my skin. I felt like it aged me a decade in just over a year. So I got serious about taking better care of my skin. I created a good regimen, learned about natural ingredients and how to mix/use them. I avoided the sun.
Then it moved to my fitness level. Without the hikes, I needed to be in the gym more. I wasn’t pushing myself, so I hired a trainer. I got my shapely muscles back and filled in the thigh gap that came about from all the hiking.
Then it went to clothes. Even my fire dancing has become more focused on how it looks. The worst change was that I started speaking poorly to myself and about myself. Gotta’ be critical if you want to change, right?
On the trail, I hear another voice more clearly. It's not critical, nor is it cajoling. It speaks truth. It’s the one I want to encourage and be with. I don’t like how I feel with the voice telling me what I need to do to look better. Honestly, I’m a writer. Who gives a fuck what I look like?
Truth is, I love knowing I can create my aesthetic. What I may have lost sight of is that my aesthetic isn’t me, it isn’t my purpose, and it will try and run the show if I let it. And when I don’t worry so much, I tend to do more things that support my health, which helps my looks.
My muse has been out on the trail this whole time, waiting for me. So all I gotta do is slather on some sunscreen and go meet it/them/him/her.
As for ending the war within, peace comes when we listen to all sides. Peace comes when we set ego aside. Peace ebbs and flows like all of life. Today, I choose peace.