Thursday, August 31, 2017

Beyond the Bubble Bath

(Photo courtesy of Decorating Your Small Space)

I am a writer.

I am a lot of other things, too, but at my very core, I am a writer, a storyteller, a sharer of thoughts.

This declaration, I am a writer, is perhaps the most exquisite thing to come from my radical self-care journey so far.

What I'm discovering is this: not only do I have a lot to say, but I get to say it.  In fact, I'm sort of obligated to say it.  Listen, here's what I think: we all have gifts within us, some we haven't discovered yet, others we may know are there but for whatever reason we haven't fully explored.  

This is where I have been stuck.  In fact, I was so stuck, I didn't even know I was stuck!  Does that make sense?  I embarked on my journey of radical self-care because I needed to get back to myself.  I needed to get healthy.  I needed to move my body, eat healthy, think good thoughts.  That's where I needed to start because without that foundation I couldn't have gotten to where I find myself this morning.

I am here.

I am right here at this point in my journey on this morning.  Elizabeth Gilbert refers to this point as "possessing a fierce sense of entitlement" in her book Big Magic.  Poet David Whyte calls it "an arrogant sense of belonging".  I realize all the negative connotations around both of those phrases, but let me offer a different way of looking at it.  It's about my feeling empowered to at least try to create a life where I am free to explore my unique gifts and to put them out there.  It's about feeling brave, while at the same time vulnerable, and embracing all of that.  It's about being a hot mess and having my shit together all in one glorious moment.

It's about losing the fear and taking advantage of it at the same time.  And my radical self-care journey has gone way beyond a long hot bubble bath.

I am a writer.

Writing those words, putting it out there scares the shit out of me.  But I don't want to be afraid of that part of me.  I don't want to hide that side of me because I'm afraid that saying it out loud will in some way hold me accountable.  In fact, I want to be held accountable.  I want to be expected to put forth my thoughts and feelings and anxieties and emotions in a way that will cleanse me, freshen me up, then open me up to all the richness and wonderfulness and abundance that the Universe has to offer.

I want to live my life in living color.  I want to tell stories about the things that make me feel alive and make my heart sing. I want to shut down my nasty inner critic that tells me constantly that I have no business whatsoever doing any of this.  And I want to encourage my muse to take up residence whenever and for however long she'd like to hang out here.  I want to write, write, write until the words won't come anymore and my brain is fried, but in oh such a good way.  Like sore muscles after an intense workout. I want to design a creative life where that creativity is the center of my universe instead of something I do in my spare time.  

There.  I said it.

I want a lot of things.  And now I want to go after them with a vengeance, with a full heart and a spring in my step.

I am a writer.  I am here.  I am ready.
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4 comments:

  1. Go for it Tammy! Yes, you are a writer. Tell your stories.

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    1. Thank you, friend. You are my writing hero. xoxo

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  2. Well, hello writer; it's a pleasure to meet you.

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    1. Hello Paulie. Thanks for visiting my little corner of the world. xoxo

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