Lately I have opened myself up to all kinds of things.
The most peculiar and strange and bizarre creatures have walked through the front door and sat down at my table, eying one another carefully with reserved friendliness while I stoically served the special of the day:
My feelings on a platter.
“Vulnerability is a path towards strength.” I read the other day somewhere on Instagram and I write it down in my diary, underlining it twice.
– But mostly it sucks. I really fucking hate it. Every time I feel vulnerable I feel like smashing something or hurting someone back or making the other feel just as nerve-rackingly thin skinned as I am: And then I don’t do it because I’m not an asshole but it’s not fun. It takes all of me. Every ounce of patience.
This is what I wrote back in early March:
“I’m at a strange point in my life where I feel very stuck not necessarily due to the lockdown rather I’ve been feeling stuck for a while now, trying to open/begin that next chapter of my life yet somehow unable.
I don’t want to continue this spinster life, it’s worn out and quite frankly boring to me. I’m ready to fall in love again to go on that journey and take that leap of faith with someone. But who?
I don’t want to live with random flatmates any longer, with people who fill gaps temporarily. I want to commit to someone even if it’s hard actually because it’s hard. I’m tired of life being so inconsequential. No strong ties, no responsibilities. It might sound dreamy to some but to me it’s gotten stale. Enough of it!
I want life to surprise me and see light and shadow, have it moving and marvel at it’s days. Just this stagnation is the worst, this feeling of nothing ever changing.”
It’s only a few days into June and life feels very messy now. Not stagnating at all but changing, insecurely expanding into the unknown. Many days I lie with emotions in bed, have them crawl over me at night as they seep into my dreams in the morning, waking me up laughing, crying, screaming.
I’m currently leaping, trying to measure where to fall and on what: A new person has entered my life.
And I’m still trying to figure out how open I want to be, can be realistically. It’s the time of growing pains, this skin soft and oh so vulnerable, I try to touch it lightly. To feel myself and take up all the space not just the one that I give myself. I try to grow beyond my own perception of me. Truly daring something.
I guess I thought this would be easier – funny how I never learn. How I always think: I can totally pull this off and maybe I do but it does not feel at all how I imagined it.
Most of the time it feels like a very good idea, very badly executed. Like trying to restore a fresco at your local church picturing Jesus and then having him look like a potato.
So I guess life is messy now, mistakes are popping up all over the place but one thing I did actually learn is to ask myself every time when I want to shut the door again, when I feel like serving silence instead of feelings and the new acquaintances just seem really really strange to me:
How are you growing in this moment?
– How are you growing in this moment!
“Maybe I had not been looking for the truth, but for a break. For something to be the catalyst of this shit feeling I had been carrying around for months.”
ONE THING TO DO
Make elderflower cordial yourself. It is the season!
IN CASE YOU MISSED LAST WEEK’S MUSE LETTER:
MUSE :: INTERVIEW with Katherine May
In the midst of winter last year I was reading a book month by month called “Wintering”. It felt like perfect timing to read about the season and metaphorically speaking that moment in your life when everything feels bleak, unmoving and dark. Katherine May the author of said book took me on a journey through a time in her life where her own kind of wintering was very apparent.
Liked today’s Muse Letter?
You can buy me a coffee
Share the Muse Letter with a friend
Do a shoutout on social media
Be a part of the Muse Salon and join a community of creative people. Including:
bi-monthly creative workshops (online)
monthly mentorships (gold membership only)
full access to the archives
You can subscribe starting from £5 per month. You can cancel anytime, no hidden fees.
Support can have many faces. Thank you so much for being here!