We come into this world a mess of contradictions. We wail and cry and fret, but really we just want love. We crawl, take our first wobbly steps, gleefully surprised, but looking back to make sure our parents are there just in case we decide we don’t want to escape the living room after all. We throw tantrums but want a hug. We secretly think we know more than our parents but at the end of the day, we kind of want their advice. We brave a new world on our own, but know that mom or dad is just a loving phone call away.
At every turn in our lives, there are realizations and profound changes. What we think we want, what we’ve been burning for our whole lives, suddenly loses its point of importance and we become lost. We flounder. We hem and haw. We stay in limbo. We stay incapacitated and choose the path of least resistance. We opt out.
We don’t make any decisions at all.
And so, our truth waits.
Our truth. Our very essence. What makes us tick. What brings us fulfillment as a human being on this tenacious thing we call earth.
Let me reiterate the word fulfillment. What fills up your tank when you feel empty. When the whole world is a hot mess of crazy, and you have this thing, this beautiful touchstone inside of you, that makes you the inquisitive wondrous human being that you are.
We spend so much of our teens and 20’s, rebellious and yet at the same time trying to conform. Again, the contradictions of the human race! But we spend so much time and effort trying to be one thing or another, it’s no wonder that people always say when they turn 30 “Finally!”, as if everything is now going to be perfect and everything will make sense. But as those of us who have age 30 in the rearview mirror, that is totally not the case. With age comes wisdom, right?
I speak from experience when I say that it took me a long time to realize my truth. And to be okay with it. Because that is the most important part. We can evolve all we want and as walking bodies of DNA, yes that is what we are supposed to do. But I feel that so many people are searching for this thing that will define them, and in their search, they become desperately unhappy. (Note: I am not talking about depression which a medical condition. That is something completely different).
Who we are is just fine. Our quirks, our need for affection, our need to know we matter to someone. That is important. What makes you happy is important.
What makes me happy? What is my truth?
I am almost 40 and let me tell you that it took up until now to admit to myself that I write. I. Am. A. Writer. I write. I write on a blog. I write in a notebook, which is full of creative writing pieces that I hope to turn into a book one day.
There. I said it out loud.
Do you know how long it took me and to get my self-esteem to a point where I could actually put voice to those words? A very, very long time. But my truth was waiting, waiting for me to stumble across it, waiting for me to uncover the depths of what makes me tick, and I found it. I finally found it.
Does this mean I am going to be a super famous published author one day? I don’t know. Maybe. But that doesn’t really matter to me because as long as I have an outlet for my words, whether on this blog, someone else’s blog, or in my notebook, I am still a writer and no one can take that from me. As long as I have strength in my bones, my pen will be moving at a steady pace across the page.
“When a mountain appears on the journey, we try to go the left, then to the right; we try to find the easy way to navigate our way back to the easier path. But the mountain is there to be crossed. It is on that pilgrimage, as we climb higher, that we are forced to shed the layers that we have carried for so long. Then we find that our load is lighter and we have come to know something of ourselves in the perilous climb”. -Jacqueline Winspear
Shed your layers. Cross that mountain. Know who you are.
Uncover your truth.