Blessings

The sunlight still woke me up through the sleep mask. I decided yesterday I was going to sleep long and well this night, yet somehow, it doesn't work. I am still hoping that in 13 days I will:

There will be a net for bugs and the silence of the inner yard will cover my nights as the cold wind caresses my feet. It will be alright if my upstairs neighbour wakes me up in the mornings, cause no one will smash my head in dreams throughout the night and the toilet will be clean and orderly, the kitchen will be empty, so my morning ginger & turmeric concoction will be more healing than before. I'll sit on the balcony to enjoy the freshness in the summer, just a little break at the beginning of the day to start it with the rhythm and mental space I need and deserve, hopefully, thoughts like the one today, won't cloud my every second.

I know the importance of sleep and routines, and this year I have been living the consequences of not following my own advice. I woke up and the first feeling I had was of tiredness, in an existential way, it said: "How many more times will I have to wake up?" 

There is no fear of death, no wish for change, no pressure, no rush. I am completely free today, yet no prospect gave me any joy, I just felt hopeless. No trip to the beach, no forest walk, no peaceful home in the woods, no herb garden, no yoga class, no art, no creation, nothing moved my heart; For the change I wish to have feels unattainable, it's that of complete systemic & cultural death: A new era of the outside as much as inside, maybe I just need more patience.

As above, so below. There's so much to learn and to do, but I can't seem to find the strength in this body, I'm full of tiredness, though I'm so young. I was born old within, but it's this heavy body that keeps my infinite mind from realising those ideas, and it's this wounded heart that keeps this fire from daring to bring my dreams to life.

- The content of this brain has changed so much in the last years. From heartache to its source, from fears to dreams and from questions to answers: I'm still the same. Can you believe we can hold so many worlds within? So much wisdom and stupidity all in the same drawer of our brains... We are so dumb, yet so marvellous. 

It's the capacity of holding opposing thoughts and accepting them all, that makes us who we are. 

There's not one reality, but many, within what we experience as "the reality", and I'm not going spiritual here, but psychological: I may say no and do no, someone may hear yes and see no, hence an explosion of confusion in their mind and heart. 
Even though we believe language is so direct and explicit, most times it's not, for our experiences of reality are so utterly different, our words can have opposing meanings and the ways we translate our abstract thoughts into less abstract languages can create much miscommunication.

Once again I am sorry. I continue to feel guilty for so much, so confused about what I could have done differently or what I should have done. I take refuge in the reminder that I tried my best with the capacities I had, and I continue to do that, as I still revise this story again and again, all that happened and how I could have acted aligned with my values, boundaries and needs, with my heart instead of my void.
Yet I must remind myself my heart was tired and hiding, for the reopening of deep wounds had taken a toll on it. Beating but raw and bleeding out, just as my brain was swollen from all the failed attempts to translate and drained from the dismissal of its own experiences and perception.

I hope someday I can forgive myself for causing so much pain.

I hope someday I'm not cursed and heavy with his feelings and thoughts.

I hope someday he'll find his own worth, love and happiness, for it's a hard world we live in and having one's own back can bring light to soothe our fears and wounds so we can move through the darkness into a place where our deepest dreams are realised.

From the distance that I aim to keep, I'm sending good things his way. 

A little one for the sake of practice.

 

It's supposed to be the other way around: Output in the morning and input at night, yet I am here in the evening wishing to decompress this difficult mind. I'd like to pick up the habit of writing again, yet there are many fears on my way, one in particular keeps me from it and there is no way to bypass it or control it. So I guess the answer is either to write more and keep my calm, or migrate once more into another realm. 
The thing is, I'd like to keep this one I've built for most of my life and especially cause I can see my growth since I came to this new land at only 23 years old. I'm 29 now and honestly, it feels like a lifetime went by.

My rusty fingers make plenty of mistakes today, it's been a while since I last wrote anything, or used this computer at all, it's quite broken, kind of like this brain I hold. The main difference is, this brain I love; this computer, I don't.

I dream of a new era, one where music, illustrations and books are possible, sitting on my balcony creating as if I was another one of those who claim to be an artist, or maybe the concept I look for is simply, happy. Those claiming their artistry tend to look more than they are, especially here it seems... I'm so tired of Berlin, of Germany in general, yet it's exactly now, when my life is about to change dramatically, moving me closer to all of my dreams and wishes, that I'm reaching a new level of disgust toward this entire society and idiosyncrasy. Of course, my first thought is: Is this self-sabotage?
Thankfully, there is no turning back right now.

On the 1st of July I'll be living in the place of my dreams, one I didn't know would look as it does. Sunny, quiet and clean, finally safe. 
After years of crawling under men's feet, trying to escape their lacks and needs, I'm entering a new era, one in which I'm surrounded with lightness, magic, beauty, all that is sacred of us assigned female at birth, all that only we understand. No more rush and impatience, no more babysitting, teaching and smiling through discomfort, no more failed attempts to explain myself to them, no more "hurting" others by just being who I am. No more exhaustion, no more fogginess, no more anger and stress. 
This is the era of me. 

Entering my 30s, on the journey of getting to know the deepest places of me and all the divine feminine I feared for most of my life, I denied. 

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Today I wore makeup and I felt beautiful, not weird and uncomfortable. It was worth celebrating. Today I sat at a park alone, had tea, chocolate and crisps and water too, I read and crocheted and gave myself the time to truly, fully and deeply rest and be. Outside, despite the fears, despite the judgement, despite the strangers. 

Today I felt free.