Wrestling My Muse
The mind is a beautiful and dangerous thing. Mine has lifted me to the heights of happiness and dragged me down to the depths of despair. It has defined my life and, at times, almost brought me to the end of it. It has sustained me through difficult days that I thought would never end. It has also been a source of great anxiety and needless worry. A haven for fear and self-loathing. Despite all of the chaos and worry and darkness, there has also been great light. There has been beauty and truth, honesty and authenticity. Within my brain lies my beautiful muse, the culmination of all of the good that resides in my heart and soul. I rarely let her out, keeping her hidden, wrestling her into a box, a perfect secret known only to me. Finally, I began to realize that by keeping her locked behind my insecurities, I denied her very existence. I began to embrace her. With that realization, there was, at last, love.
I’ve lived my entire life, well into my 40s, this way. Closed off inside, faking it through life just to fit in. Introverted to the extreme, wary of social gatherings, which were painful in the amount of work it took to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Some things saved me, though—my belief in God, meditation, prayer, writing, and my yoga mat.
As a child, prayer was magical. God was so real. I could see him. I can remember seeing the golden hues surrounding the priest and parishioners at the small town church I attended. I’ve always had conversations with God, as far back as I can remember. He was the first voice in my head, before the others. But God’s voice was different. I heard Him in a way that I did not hear the others. So for me, God is real. I’ve since ceased the childhood fantasy of God as a magnificent older man reminiscent of Dumbledore from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Now, God is simply pure love, pure energy. He lives just as much as you or I, but on so many levels all at once that his very existence boggles the mind. I spent many years ignoring God’s voice, afraid to do what he called me to do. Always falling prey to the dark side. Now, I am no longer afraid. I’ve accepted that there are certain things that I will never be able to explain, and that’s okay. Not everything has to be defined.
Writing has been my solace, a place to purge the darkness and get those tiny glimpses of light. Journals upon journals fill my bookshelves, desk, and floors. Then, during my teenage years, there was one place that I started to feel secure. Grounded. Safe. It was on my yoga mat. I started taking a yoga class with my best friend because, at the time, it was just getting started in our small town, and it seemed new and exciting. What I took away from my classes was so much more than a way to stay fit. It was a way to live my life so that I could function. I learned to breathe, to center myself, to calm myself when the voices were raging. While this blog isn’t about yoga asanas or philosophy per se, it may be about the things that I learned from practicing over the years. The change didn’t come instantly. It took over 20 years to get to a place of peace. Change is like that. It takes time, and that time is whatever time is right for you. I had to put in a lot of work both on and off the mat bettering myself. Finding peace, writing out my worries, meditating, praying. Even as I write this, I am second-guessing myself; that is how new the process is. To lay it all out there, my weaknesses, my illness, to leave my defenses down, I feel naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.
I am tired of wrestling my muse back into her secret box inside my mind. I am ready to let her wander freely, explore and learn, express herself. I’m not sure what this blog is going to become ultimately. I’m a fiction writer at heart, where it’s easy to hide behind the fantasy. There are so many things that I want to write about, so many contradictory things that this may turn out to be a chaotic and unpredictable blog. I want to bring you stories of hope, inspiration, of honesty, even when that honesty casts me in a dark light. There might be some fictional stories, some opinion pieces. Hopefully, some humor. I think it is finally time to let my muse be free and create. Won’t you join me?