I live in a metaphorical battle.
A story happening deep on the inside of who I am fit for a science fiction novel.
A power shift is about to go down in here, and every day I am aware of this mystical crusade going on between the last bits of what society considers normal vs the eccentric nut job who is exactly who I was born to be.
All of our home school stuff came in today. I am elated and terrified.
I can feel this pulsing in my soul that immediately sends a wave of victory over me that is dropped kicked aside by sheer horror.
The critical voices running wild in my head, kindly reminding me that I am not good enough to do this. I mean sometimes I even confuse your with you’re.
This past year these voices have been met by this part of me that knows everything I am is on the other side of this. This brave piece of me that has been making her way up to the control center of my conscience.
I look at my sweet boy and wonder if he knows how big a deal this all is? What a big deal he is? OG is an old soul. I can see that just by looking in his soft brown eyes, so there is a really good chance that somewhere deep down past his own “normal” person he knows.
He is the one that pushes me out of every comfort zone I have established for my very comfortable snack eating, wrestling watching self. He has forced me to reach for all those things I know I am capable of but talk myself out of doing. I only hope that as he grows older I can repay him. I pray that the gods plan is for me to be here to make his dreams come true the way he has made all of mine a reality.
I sense that truly authentic part of myself as a strength that logically I always knew I had, but sometimes I thought maybe I was just making it up. I am a fan girl after all. Prone to drama that is encased in the supernatural. How can I say with a straight face that I picked up these two crystals I bought at the local flea market and felt a surge of raw energy come off them. It shook me a little and I tossed them down doing a scan for my sanity. I may have thought get the salt… (#whyarentyouwatchingsupernatural?)
How awkward it is to become a believer.
I’m so scared of all of it.
I’m scared, but when I go to write what I am scared of I can’t say. Everything I say after the words I’m scared feel fake. They feel weak and rehearsed like they don’t even belong to me. That’s how I know the war is being one by the magical part me.
I am grateful and ashamed that I spend this lifetime being trapped inside these first world problems. Thank you sweet baby Jesus that I can figure all this stuff out sipping a mason jar full of clean water with a splash of apple cider vinegar, listening to Monday Night Raw, with the central air blasting.
The guilty part of me is reminded of all the work I still have to do.
How am I ever going to figure out how to be thankful without feeling guilty?
That shit is going to be way harder than becoming who I am.
