The other day was a rough one.
Truth: I cried for nearly an entire evening–except for the time when I was teaching a yoga class, when I refused to let my mind be anything but present–and failed, and tried again, and failed, and tried again.
Truth: At one point during the day, I thought I saw my Dad walking down the street towards me. He doesn’t live near me anymore. I buckled at the knees. I so badly wanted it to be him. I so badly wanted to be a little girl again, and have him put his arms around me and tell me “Everything will be all right. I’ll take care of it.” And I so badly wanted to believe it.
Truth: I was tired, exhausted, frustrated, and really, really sad. I was tired of worrying about people, worrying about the planet, tired of continually striving and moving and feeling pulled from the inside.
Truth: Some days, I don’t want to do it anymore. Some days, I just want to give the finger to the universe, tell it to f off, say I’ve failed, accept it, and be done. No more worrying, not more striving, no more moving. Just nothing.
Because I read a post by Johnny B Truant that said this:
Most people have a really warped view of the way things actually work.
– Most people think that successful people don’t fail. So if you fail, that means you’ve fucked up. It’s over, and you should quit.
– Most people think that people who have what they want are geniuses, and everything is simple and straightforward for geniuses. So if something you’re doing is really hard and giving you a ton of trouble, that means you’ve fucked up. It’s over, and you should quit.
And because my amazing massage therapist and I were talking last time I was there (she really puts the therapist in massage) and she said this:
You like to be up here (hovering her hand close-ish to her head) all full of love and light and joy–and that’s great, but your power comes from acknowledging and accepting your dark side.
And these two instances came together with my revelation and ‘what I know for sure’–that it’s not about leadership or authority; it’s about being authentic and open–to smack me on the head:
I fail. I mess up. I fall down–sometimes on purpose. I get mad, frustrated, upset and angry. I get really, really sad. I feel like giving up. I feel afraid. I wish someone would come down and take over for me. I wish someone would carry me. I wish I could just rest.
I have those days. I do.
Just so you know.
Why am I telling you this? Because I don’t want you to think it’s all pies in sky, love, light and joy. I don’t want you to think it’s always a walk in the park.
I want you to know that I have those days, too.
Because maybe knowing that will make those days a little easier to ride out.
P.S. An image: a butterfly struggles to release itself from the cocoon. It wiggles and strives and tires and rests, and tries again, struggling and striving. If we pull the cocoon apart in an attempt to help it, it will die. A butterfly can only use its wings once they’ve been strengthened.