Tuesday’s
Truth
Reawakening
the spirit – whether through mindful yogic practices, long morning runs, or
simply finding the sort of space within the self to breathe – is something I consider
quite a bit. I think it’s far too easy for all of us to become complacent, lax
in our efforts and even more so in our progression. I’ve probably written about
or referenced this theme at least a hundred times this year! It’s so vital to
my pursuit of self-satisfaction and my desire to be the best human possible in
this life.
Because
of these rolling sorts of thoughts, and maybe because I’ve been feeling a touch
on the emo-side lately, having witnessed and been a part of two epic weddings, the
concept of love and truth has been in the forefront of my mind. The
truth is, I’ve been pretending like I’ve been ready to accept, embrace and
relish in the real-life effort of what Love is, the enterprising and
all-encompassing sort of capacity that it takes when one is truly and fully
open. I’ve been saying that I’m ready but my heart has still been shrouded by
loss. Ultimately, I realize that I’ve been reticent to open myself and my life
because I’m scared … of being hurt, of making the wrong choice, of walking a
path that will lead to less and not more. But if I look objectively at the last
chunk of my life, I realize that this mode of thinking is doing little to
encourage the spirit of happiness and gratitude and a whole lot more to leave
me feeling funky, displaced and frustrated.
On
Valentine’s Day this year, I had Dryer ink an open heart on my hip. I explained
I wanted it open to signal to the Universe that I was (am) ready to receive
love into my life. I remember Dryer smirking a bit; maybe he knew that even
though I was saying the words, I wasn’t truly ready. The heart inked on my skin
is still open, and now maybe the heart inside of me is open too.
Emo
as fuck, I know. But even a yang girl has to have her yin moments every now and
again.
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