Time and Light Switches

Growing up feels an awful lot like pulling teeth. They’re sore and always getting in the way but it takes a flash of pain to be ride of them. So we hold on for far longer than we should. Even after all this time I still haven’t learned to let go. Every time I think I’ve found the trick I realize I’ve only managed to trick someone else into forcing it from my white knuckle grip. Growing up has a lot more of letting things go than I thought. I thought it was about finding your way in the world and taking responsibility and maybe finding someone to spend this life with. Theres a whole lot more growing in the growing up, more healing and becoming whole. I didn’t realize, I wasn’t expecting it. I’m still learning, and I say it often enough it’s starting to feel like an excuse. But it’s the truth and oh how unsatisfied I am with where I’m at. I constantly wish to be further ahead, to be further down the road, to have figured it out. But I haven’t and I’m not, so I need to learn to be oka...

There are days when being alone spells out freedom of the utmost kind. And there are days when being alone is a torture of the deepest kind. It’s sweet, like the way poison tastes. Being alone, it isn’t something you know how to deal with until you have no other choice but to deal. To handle, to bear the burden. To find a way to keep going with the weight living in your skin.   I am quite well aquatinted with the fact of being alone. I find myself in that state more often than I would like, more often than I truly realize. It’s not really something I would recommend, but I can’t deny the pros of being okay with your own company. And you only reach that point when you’ve spent enough time with you and only you, enough time to learn you don’t have to hate yourself simply because you lack companionship.  I loathe the notion, the believed principal, that one must love themselves before they are truly able to love one another. I think it’s bullshit, to be quite honest. In fact ...

Celebration is a funny thing. It often feels self centred or even arrogance driven. But only when I’m looking at myself. I’ve always seen others celebrating as a wonderful and beautiful thing but if I were to celebrate myself it was selfish, it was gross and evil. Dramatic I know, but I really didn’t love myself enough to think I was worth celebrating. It’s taken a lot of work and perseverance to make it to this place where I can love myself enough to want to celebrate.   Today marks Time and Light Switches two year anniversary. Our second birthday if you will. There were more times than I’d like to admit this past year when I thought about giving up and throwing in the towel. And every time I would push my way through, I would write my post about how I didn’t want to write if I had to. So long as I made it happen, so long as I had done something .  I didn’t set out with an end goal when I began this adventure two years ago. I set out with a conviction and a need, a desir...

I don’t know how to talk about it. I don’t know how to put the words to sentences. I don’t know how to feel it. I don’t know how to live with this. I don’t know how to move on, not without feeling like I am in open heart surgery, all day long . This is where things get hard, where things get messy. Because all I’m left with is a multitude of emotions that haven’t had words to explain them in centuries and maybe I wasn’t meant for this time. But maybe I was. And all I’m really meant to do is scream and cry and hope that one day all this pain, all this process, will suddenly bear fruit and be given purpose. Maybe .  But I’m young yet, despite feeling the echos of eons past. Which is something no-one will ever understand unless they too have heard the whistle of the wind whipping through the trees oh so many years ago. It’s not something to be understood, it is something to be known .  I never seem to get very far into my stack of questions before twenty more are added to t...

I left anger behind me, left it back in the hills of Colorado. I waded into relief and peace when I landed in Texas. It felt awkward and uncomfortable, like I wasn’t allowed to be okay. And then the tears came back, came back and teared a hole in my heart. Because the sadness had to get out somehow, and leaving my friend again hurt too much.   Because grief is a wild beast and makes no plans to be tamed. When I rolled across the border something in me snapped, and fell into sight. Because I was lonely again, was alone again. And coming home didn’t feel like home is felt like capture and looked like my doom. But I’m still standing, still crying.  But I left my anger back in Colorado and I’m not sad to be parted with it I just don’t know where to put my hands anymore. I lived in a beautiful reprieve of heaviness while in Texas, and truly it healed some still young part of my heart. But I cry an awful lot these days and often I’m not sure why. It feels awkward and uncomforta...