so, as lovely as I am, I am freaked out that I will be hitting the bloaty part of the month on Oscar night. (Yep I am still fertile). So my lovely dress, which is rather clingy scares me. I set up an appointment to have an alternate dress made for me yesterday, but the only day we could do it in time would be to begin today and then I woke with a fevered kid and couldn't get to the appointment. (There was another road block too, which cemented the letting it go). I took it to mean: stop stressing and wearing the dress I have, even if I have a fat stomach sticking out. Not ideal, but there comes a point where you have to give up the perfection, hope for the best, and deal with whatever comes down the pike. That is what a human does. Back in the day, I used to be underground super legend, so I can still set my expectations to the non human standards, aiming for perfection and accepting nothing less. Alas, that luxury is long gone, which is a blessing, but not very ego stroking.
The whole Oscar thing is a dance between that old perfectionist with her ego and this modern mom with her limitations; desire and detachment. It is not a comfortable place for me. It takes practice, constant practice to dance on the edge, but keep it real; buy into and enjoy the fantasy and staying grounded. It is uncomfortable because it is slippery, tricky, and there is a sneaky mind confusing element in there. Does that ring a bell? If I wasn't so good at acceptance and surrender, I would be in for a real ass kicking. Somehow, because I am forced to live very much in reality, it eventually frees me to truely take the whole spectacle with a grain of salt and enjoy it for what it is worth. Does that make any sense to y'all?
It reminds me of back in the 90's, when I went around looking flawless to myself on a daily basis and then I had a rude emotional awakening that rocked the hell out of my world and I couldn't get out of bed. I got sucker punched by my own psyche, and slammed head first into another dimension, the demention where the universe says wake the fuck up and deal with the wreckage that fuels everything about you. Do you follow?
I recall one day leaving the house completely naked, emotionally speaking. I looked like the fragile wreck that I was. And a friend saw me and she reacted with hysterical laughter. She wasn't the nicest person, but she wasn't laughing at me, she was just laughing at how very fast everything changed, how my life had been upended in one day and how very visual my emotional wreckage was.
I thank god for that tornado that changed everything, otherwise I would still be living on the very surface of life, missing the beautiful depth.
There is this thing about external validation that tricks you into believing in false idols. Do you feel me? The ideal is to allow it all, take it all in, but to stay grounded in the process. That art makes all the difference in terms of your fate. That which remains unconscious manifests as destiny, right? You gotta feel the feelings if you want to steer your own ship. Right on!
I still hope my stomach isn't fat and sticking out, but whatever. ( ps, not you, dear reader, but everyone else...please refrain from the " wear a girdle" comments, that is so besides the point ). Eternal surrender my friends, again and again, every day.