I Wish I Didn't

I wish I didn't feel the necessity to blog, more specifically to write. Something birthed a desire in me to start writing today and I know it wasn't that lost hour to Gossip Girl. I have a new roommate, life seems to have stabilised but I don't even think it was that. It could have been that my Ray Lamontage tickets came and now I'm listening to Leona Naess (the opening act). It's not even that - it's a quote that fell from my poster board.

"Texts involve a central female speaker's discerning that she cannot recognize, by looking into mirrors, a self she can accept, her deliberately avoiding mirrors until she understands that she must reincorporate a foreign or lost part of herself." (Power 20)

Mirrors, more specifically people who reflect their vision for me have left me in the place I am now. I have struggled because the world sees me as this angry feminist, and it's much more and much less then that. It's that part of me that has been fighting to find itself, fighting to survive amidst the crushing expectations, the pain, the limitations, the attempts to corral - and I've fought and rebelled as much as a "good girl" will - I have no intentions/desire to drink, drug or find my self in the arms of anyone other then my little fur baby, Maximus. So in the name of retro rebellion, I am going to go another route, I think - embracing the arts, the silence and the spaces of freedom. I'll see how that looks and maybe you will too... there is hope in the putting of one foot in front of the other, it's not in the step, but its there in the accidents, falls and losses - it's in the grace that is over all of that.

Now for an unrelated music choice, well not really...



Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lemonwonder/486620875/

Postscript:
It has been said to me " in my quest for freedom, not to enslave another." I am not looking for "freedom" in any conventional sense, but more so internal - spaces of freedom for me are those spaces, like in the silence, in meditation, in walks, in staring at the ocean alone where I can be gentle with myself, introspect, think through and sort beyond all the chaos. They are also times with those I am working through this time with who aren't involved in anyway. I long for days when words like above don't snuff my desire for a new life - a life where my purpose is mine and not be what is desired of me, when hope is not so fleeting, when there are more good days then bad, and that was this post's purpose - a reminder for me that there will be a day when that will happen. There is joy/peace/grace/purpose in the arts as I said before - reading lets my brain relax and sort through things, see things in different ways, cooking just feels good, music gives me something to have roll around in my head at those odd times, something positive, thought provoking, something. I don't know who I am, that's plain, that's clear, that's why we're, more specifically why I'm here. Don't know when I lost her, if I did or if she even existed, and as such the road to find her is not clear, not direct and not without it's confusion for me and others. But it is what it is - a journey, and a chance to see things, see me - and maybe the next time I look in a mirror the woman standing there may feel like me - it won't feel foreign, awkward, shameful or fearful. She won't look tired, broken or haggard - then again maybe she will and maybe I'll be okay with that.