Just another guy? Writer? Artist? Infinite cosmic, all powerful inter dimensional being?!?!? Am I Me? Am I the butterfly? Are you me? What is this place?
I pounded my head on the social media wall screaming 'See Me' for years.
Walked away.
Came back, idea to just share things I was working on. Got frustrated, no one seemed to care or have enough attention span to understand.
Walked away again.
Started writing, drawing, and playing music just for its own sake.
Found something I had lost in myself, an entire world underneath the surface.
Today I had a thought: My complaint with social media was always "I want connection!"; but found none.
Why?
Perhaps, just a thought...because all I did was say, hey, look over here!
Coming back to social media....again...not posting much, if at all. Almost deleted the entire account, but decided it was part of my history, so I kept it.
Trying to explore this 'connection' part of social media now. That part I always complained was not there; but perhaps it was me that was not there...
That was a trap I fell into so much in my life, I thought that what creativity was for; to get 'attention'
Once I let go of that, I found art & creativity to be a kind of portal into a universe within lying just beyond my regular senses.
What do you think causes people to fall into this trap? I am genuinely curious.
Perhaps a trap many find when looking out into the social media landscape.
For me though I don't think social media was the issue. I think it was more that I was looking outward for others to give me the 'answers.' But I had them all along; inside; I just had to allow them to come out.
@1PoorRichard@Naturalphilosy I can't agree more.
I always told myself 'I'm no artist.'
When I finally let go of that I found something cherished.
Mind you, I'm no virtuoso either, but there is something about music, art, and creativity that conjures part of myself I did not know was there.
This weekend felt like feeling giving way to form.
I’ve noted how art and creativity go through a process of diffusion, kind of like AI models. It is not a straight path from idea to creation and done. There is a feeling one’s way through creation. A dance.
This weekend, I seemed to be learning this doesn’t apply only to art, but to all of life.
I don't claim to know ultimate truth.
Truth, I think, is ever evolving and we are evolving alongside it.
I'm here to explore this Human experience through attention and looking to connect with other open-minded explorers.
We can start with a simple comment to this post.
An observation or reflection you have been thinking about...and who knows what might happen when we start paying attention as a community.
I've noticed that at work I tend to think and reason constantly.
On the surface, that seems necessary.
Yesterday though, I wondered what would happen if I just felt my way through the day.
The world didn't collapse. And I found there's actually freedom in trusting your instincts. It feels scarier to try than it actually is.
Yesterday I wrestled with a decades-old question, two conflicting voices pulling me apart.
I stepped outside, let the Sun warm my face, content to let it rest for now.
Suddenly I understood my next step forward.
The weight seemed to lift...like I didn't have to solve it alone.
Perhaps the deepest trauma arises when we live inside a story that isn’t aligned with who we truly are...
...I realized I had nothing to fear. I get to decide what the story means. No outer authority can tell me otherwise; only I can.
https://t.co/uJTcXGhVrk
Yesterday I did something I had not done in a long time. I played a video game.
I haven't felt the impulse to play in a long time, and as I felt this urge, I realized my old gaming habits didn't resonate anymore. Then out of nowhere the remake of Myst showed up for me and it felt perfect.
I played for a bit, and then I started to wonder. What if I were to set intentions to visit a non-physical place and journal the experience? And then keep going back and visiting again and again; how would it change over time, keeping a little separate journal for each visit?
Yesterday felt liminal, and I noticed something new. Small things that cause me to tense up, physically, in ways I’d never been aware of before.
I find myself wondering how I ever lived without noticing this tension at all. Lately I’ve been witnessing it more and more, and it feels as real and visceral as anything else I experience.
I’ve always noticed it during major events, but now it’s showing up even in the smaller moments, subtler, but just as clear.
I used to tell my children "You must not allow your emotions to control you!" — with an air of 'get a hold of yourself' mixed in with it.
Now I think I would say it differently: "Allow your emotions to guide you, but not to rule you."
Yesterday felt like a weight lifting, an old trauma finally falling away.
I spent the day writing a piece my mind kept shouting no to, out of fear, but I chose to write anyway. As I wrote and practiced playing The River Flows in You, tears came, the weight lifted, and it felt like space was being cleared for something new.
Each time I heal another layer of this trauma, the old stiffness in my left hip loosens. This week it did again, and now it feels almost fully healed.
I've been writing a lot lately about the power of the personal stories we tell ourselves.
This weekend, that truth seemed to really settle into my bones, and I'm starting to glimpse its broader implications.
Shining the spotlight of retrospection on past experience provides the proof. It's been hidden in plain sight all along.
Inspired by @StefanBurnsGeo
"Kiss of the Sun" - A plasma entity on the sun bringing balance between negative and positive, left and right.
Whatever may or may not come, there is nothing to fear. Movement brings about new form.
"As I relinquished control, slowed down, and trusted, the world did not end. Instead, things fell into place." - R A Brookfield
https://t.co/S5RdsnHFXx
A long while ago in meditation I saw a flash of light. My meditation timer sounded, and then there was a large crack sound. Startled and looked over.
The candle wax had split in the shape of a cross....
I reached out to a mentor at the time, 'What does it mean?'
She wrote back, 'Only you can decide that'...I was so frustrated...
Now, years later, I have a new understanding of what she meant.
If I let others write my story, I give away my power and sovereignty.
Only now am I beginning to understand...I write my story.
It’s been a nice weekend, and a tarot box is starting to take form.
Now that it’s out of my head and into a design, it’s time to figure out how to make it real.