Inside of currently wading through a tonne of emotional “sludge”, I have moments of beautiful clarity, peace and insight. For a couple of hours yesterday I had one such moment.
I am experiencing heartbreak right now and have reconnected with my desire to write again too. And so, for the last 2 weeks I’ve been writing, a lot. I was aware that the notebook that I had been using, my ‘Escape the City’ one from 2014 was soon to run out of pages. And somewhere inside me, I came up with the idea that the subject I am currently writing about needs to stay within that book and go no further. It definitely wasn’t allowed to go into my new, very pretty ‘This is my year to sparkle’ notebook (thank you Magda).
And so I picked up a pad of old, scrappy lined paper to act as my “buffer”/my overflow. Stating that anything that needs to be written about my current situation will go on those scraps of paper and then shoved into the old notebook, where it supposedly belongs. Pain and discomfort couldn’t possibly be allowed to go into a notebook titled ‘This is my year to sparkle’ could it?! What’s sparkly about that?!
In my moment of clarity I realised how wrong that felt…
An extract from the last page of my old notebook:
“Because so much of what I am thinking, feeling and experiencing right now feels so similar to what I was experiencing at the start of the old notebook back in 2014, I realised that I was experiencing a feeling of ‘I should be somewhere else right now’, ‘How an earth can I be experiencing the same pain, talking about the same things and doing the same shit all over again?!’
But it’s not the same is it? It can feel so familiar at times yes but at times it feels so fresh, raw and untraversed too.
It most definitely isn’t the same. I’m not the same…”
And then I ran out pages.
And in that moment, I made the choice not to write on the scraps of paper but instead go straight into my new, sparkly notebook.
“…I’m NOT the same, it’s true. Trying to shove all that I’m experiencing and feeling right now onto scraps of paper and forcing it all into that old notebook is basically me saying that where I am right now is wrong. That what I’m experiencing right now is wrong. When all I am trying to do right now is be as accepting of my current, personal experience as I possibly can. In a new and really unprecedented way. Instead I was choosing to shame myself, or at least that’s what it felt like. I know and fully accept that my experience and feelings will transform and transcend in the way that they need to and nothing I can do right now, apart from be with it, will move me on or expedite the process in anyway (as much as I really wish it would).
THIS is a part of who I am. THIS will contribute and shape who I am becoming and THIS is an homage to where I’ve been, how I’ve grown and where I could make the choice to do some more work. THIS is no less or no more significant than any other part of my life. And therefore I choose not to invalidate it or make it inferior to anything else in my life. It’s as ugly or as beautiful as everything else. It’s me.”
And so, that old notebook and the ones to follow I now choose to refer to as my ‘life books’ because they literally are that. They have everything from illegible notes, prayers, dreams, morning pages, notes to loves lost, coaching client notes, new projects that have flourished and those that have floundered, ramblings and upsets from dark nights of the soul…literally everything.
I love how they’re a memoir to who I am, the shape my life has taken, my journey, the choices I’ve made, the experiences I’ve had, the things I learned and have been taught, the highs/lows and in-betweens. Those pages are literally a representation of my life. And I love how its recorded in the order that it’s all happened. Beautiful, messy, enlightened and enchanted, down right weird and crazy, confused, joyful, hopeful, funny, sad, faithful…real life according to it’s timeline and order. Not some contrived one I’d prefer.
Each page of this new life book has ‘Enjoy’ written in the corner. I scoff at that as I make legible my pain. But as I love language I just had to look up the definition of ‘enjoy’ and this one I love: enjoy (verb) – to possess or benefit from.
So I will choose to enjoy ALL of the pages, pain or pleasure. I’ll possess them, not through attachment but through true acceptance of where I am. And I’ll benefit from it all, especially this acceptance.
This is my year to sparkle, (verb) – shine brightly with flashes of light. And what is light according to A Course in Miracles? Understanding.