a body at rest

everything. or maybe just most things. 
broken thoughts or maybe they just are not fully formed yet. 
maybe just floating out in the expanse and then coming back into the moment in a way that i can type them into this thinkpad. working with the now through engaging what comes. 
it’s not that there’s something other than that. 
it’s just that it’s that. 
sometimes we just have to keep going. 
i think there’s new horizons and seasons of the heart to explore but it’s not something that can happen in it’s fullness unless i open to it. 
there’s like a comfort level with risk that has to be apart of doing anything specifically unique and creatively inspired. 

i’ve been caught up on feeling undeserving of living a beautiful life for most of my life (being told i deserved to burn in hell from a young age probably factored into that shame). 
i’m not talking about popping bottles on a yacht in a picture perfect ocean. 
i’m not talking about opulence and frivolity when I speak of beauty. 
it's an engagement with the process of becoming more myself that allows the hard aspects to integrate while also showing up and laughing till I cry. 
to suffer with and hope for a kinder world. 
to follow the deep sound even when it’s so scary and when it costs a lot. 
because what am I going to do? go to my death knowing that there was parts of this life that i didn’t engage because of the fear of it going in a painful direction? 
that sounds pretty uninteresting. 

the fact is i’m not sure i deserve anything. 
people say you deserve this or that and i can feel the place it’s coming from and it’s good. it’s good. 
but I think for me the language of deserving is wrapped up in my experience of something transactional. 
i think moving into language that is softer is helpful for me to get clear on what i’m trying to pursue. 
it is worthwhile for me to no longer show up in a space and say false things. 
it is worthwhile for me to learn how to serve those around me from a place of desiring their flourishing in the world. 

for me to say i deserve to be happy isn’t necessarily false. 
i just don’t think that really gets at the heart of it for me. 
i don’t think i have to do anything to be embraced in a true way. 
i’ve fully rejected capitalism as a life ethos. 
my worth is not wrapped up in what i produce. 
i don’t need to show that i am deserving of being objectified as an asset. 
the truth is that i'm becoming a person that i like to spend time around. 

i enjoy being curious about myself and how i am in various contexts that i experience through my life. 
i think i also just made the decision to live in a way that moves me towards being the kind of person i’d like people to speak about at my funeral. it’s okay. it doesn’t have to be like a fucking huge thing all the time. 
buy your friends dinner sometimes and show them that you care about them in true ways. tell the funny joke and wear the clothes and nail polish and all the expressive things you want to do. 

work is work. 
just don’t let it destroy you. 
there’s more things to do in life than get consumed by the pursuit of worth through the interaction with what i do for the means to exist in this system. 
it’s okay. 
go to the dances and get uncomfortable, get nervous. 
sleep under the stars after sweating in a sauna for a very long time. 
i think for me one of the expansive ways of relating to myself has been curiosity and honesty, decoupled from a shame about existing. 
there’s something to be said about the liberation of forgiveness. 
there’s something to be said for allowing myself to show up and meet the world in way that doesn’t hinge on extraction.