i lead a wacky life and you don’t know the half of it

Dear Thinker Maker,

I’ve been avoiding writing in you.

It’s not you, it’s me.

You see, I’ve had you for around two years now, and I haven’t always been around, but you’ve always been there to take my ideas when I felt like throwing them. Thank you for that, you’re a good catch (ahah, see what I did there?).

You’ve followed my journey through my changing focuses – overconsumption, sewing, thrifting, personal style, self-work, self-acceptance, creativity, spirituality. And you’ve been very patient with the unfinished projects I promised you.

You tell the story of this discovering, experimenting period of my life.

And now it’s time for my new story to start. I have outgrown you, dearest.

Here is why.

I have conversations with my soul, and a cast of other characters in my head for fun, insight and direction (which I take very seriously). I meditate regularly (but erratically) and spend more time in meditation crying, grunting, heaving and jolting than sitting peacefully. When I am alone I dance or sing or shout in the face of resistance and confusion. I have more showers and baths than a normal person probably does and I wash my fear down the drain with the water.

I make choices for no apparent reason other than I know that’s the choice I need to make. I’m okay with being confusing and although I am interested in feeling responses, I don’t believe I need to explain myself further about what I choose to do with my life.

I’m very sensitive and, having lived comparatively numb for most of my life, I like it this way, because how can I know what I need if I’ve turned off my senses, and how can I possibly be available to joy without feeling?

I call on angels for healing, and consider them more competent at it than psychologists, even if I’m not entirely sure I believe in their existence (the angels, not the shinks).

I see astrology and numerology as super useful and fun insights into the self, because the truth of them is less relevant than the questions and revelations they bring up within me, and when I delve in, I always encounter both in spades.

I consider my imagination as important as my reality. I don’t care whether a thing is “real” or not. If I suspend my disbelief, surrender my defenses, and go with the weird thing I’ve made up or heard about — if I do all that and then feel more at peace with myself as a result, that is all the truth I need.

I believe in the inherent divinity of all things and the power of unconditional love. I believe no one is wrong, that reality is perfect and that when I can’t see that, I’m believing a lie that causes me to suffer.

I don’t believe in right and wrong or good or bad. The polarities that I see are hurt and healing, suffering and joy, fear and love, disconnection and connection. I believe that both the light and the dark of all these sides come together and are necessary for our greatest benefit, if we are open to seeing it.

I believe that soul, spirit and energy are tangible, reliable guidance systems.

I believe the most important thing in life is to feel good, because there is love there, and when we are in love with ourselves and our life, we are overflowing. Pure, loving service to others comes naturally as an additional gift.

I believe I’m supposed to be divulging all this, even though it might cause some people to turn away.

There. I am out of this closet.

Dearest blog, these things don’t quite fly with you, I can feel it. And I understand.

So I’m moving on to a new space to tell my new stories of love, light, dark, healing and ridiculousness. I want to be more of myself in a place where I am completely and warmly welcomed. I want be more vulnerably truthful. I want to move my ego aside so I can offer more to the lovelies who visit me.

I’ll be back once more when I’m ready to point the way to my new space.

So long for now, and thanks for all the fish.

Love,
Hayley