Who’s is she?
I am a 37 year old gypsy. For real. It’s painful for me to stay still.
Recently tattoo’d, unruly curly hair, & a lover of all things nature.
Over the last few years I have been on quest to answer the question.
Who am I?
I think after the past few years of actively seeking my truth I have come to a conclusion. Finally.
I have no fucking idea,
and that’s perfectly okay. Well I wish I felt like that was okay, maybe the better thing to say is – I am working on it being OK.
The point isn’t about defining & knowing, it’s not about expectations. It’s simply about allowing to be, following passions and continual personal evolution. That’s all that really matters. Everytime I stop following my passions I suffer. It gets very loud and very dark. It becomes hard to breathe.
I hate the unknowing. I hate the uncertainty of being and feeling untethered. I need to have one thing, just one thing that’s my anker. I desire that more than anything right now. BUT what the fuck is it that will ever make me feel like that. How do I find my tether?
This blog is and always has been my sounding space – the place I let my hair down and I tell the universe what I REALLY think. I processed my difficult marriage here, my separation and making a new life for myself, the weird world of dating. Which I have learned – I don’t love. I love relatioships, active passionate ones. These day’s I am mostly writing about – well not much I haven’t wrote consistently in over two years. I think that’s where the problem began, I stopped writing for me and started writing about my adventures, or promotionally, less about my wildly dark mind, my friends, my soul brother, & my ex husband. I stopped talking about being a single Mom, life in the city, now life in a small town. I’ve missed the dialogue and the calm.
My favourite prose: and my personal declaration for a valuable standard of living.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. ” The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
If you haven’t heard this before, it’s an excerpt from a speech made by Theodore Roosevelt. This part of the speech, known as ‘Man in the Arena’ speaks volumes to me, & in a way is very directive of my personal stake in all this – you see, I too am in the arena, it’s the quality of my life that is the worthy cause. I feel like giving up a lot these days but I won’t.
My one Caveat: If you are reading this and you feel it’s about you to some degree, it probably is.. and if you don’t like it – don’t look.