At 3:58am my left arm started to hurt. At the ripe age of twenty-one my life began to flash before my eyes, no obviously I was not having a heart attack. This ache in my left arm however generated a thought in my mind, what would happen if I died right now? A little morbid I know but bare with me.. All those fun philosophical, what comes after life, questions flooded into my brain. Where would I go? Who would be there to greet me? Will my consciousness just end? This cliche notion that you have one life to live the best way you can had never been so present in my mind.
My arm still hurting I began to type frantically in my notes, in search of some release of these looming and frankly scary thoughts taking over my mind at three in the morning. I really would rather be sleeping.
I started to think what I believe in, mind you its now four in the morning so it's a strange thought process here. I have no intention to bring up the dreaded topic of religion, but simply the idea of belief. What it's like to believe in things, the blind following that people can throw themselves into has always been something I can't seem to understand. Wether it's witchcraft, Catholicism, Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. The faith people have in God or even just choosing to believe the possible tall tales our grandparents tell us just because it's easier to trust than it is to disprove someone. Why as people do we trust so much in the things most beyond our reaches, what is this uncontrollable power in the universe..
Im far too deep into this nonsense now but I promise I've come here with a purpose. I need to pull myself from the clutches of my comforter while lending a hand to those who may need that exact same push.
Quarantine has provided all of us with more than enough time to reflect to the point where I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore, because I don't know who that person is. Personally I've been self reflecting with a bag of chips and my new favourite dip. The three of us waste away our days with hours of self criticism which all seems to pile up in the corner of my mind. It's quite intrusive actually, much like someone who's over stayed their welcome. I now walk past the mirror and wonder who is that bitch because there's no way that could be me.
Being an only child I know what too much alone time can do to people, and being an artist I also know what happens when you set your mind free into itself. Not many nice things float to the surface, at least in my experience, that may just mean I need to be kinder to myself. When your only hobby every day becomes picking out your own flaws I'd say its pretty easy to lose yourself a little.
MORAL OF THE STORY..
I know it's been quite the read to get to this point, and I won't hold it over you if you just scrolled down to see when I finally stopped talking.
The question remains for me as to why people hold faith to such out of reach ideas. It's the ability to follow something so blindly which has held my mind hostage on the whole idea, I just didn't get it. I realize now how healthy it is to dedicate yourself to something. I'm quite a cynical person, but leading life with even a pinch of negativity has proven to not be the healthiest thing for me.
After spending far too much time with myself this past year, the self reflection I was forever avoiding finally took place. I realize now as basic as it sounds, it was time for me to start believing in myself.
Lead with love
Don't judge people before you know them
Sing & dance whenever you can
Smile more
Be kind to yourself
Sit up straight
Don't doubt your abilities
Know your worth
Only make time for the people who value you
You don't chase, you attract, what belongs to you will simply find you.
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