confessions of freedom

confession: my morning started with diet root beer in a dark blue coffee mug and tmz reports of whether or not michael jackson’s kids share his dna parentage, which i never thought they did but also didn’t think it mattered since the person who read you books at bedtime and sang you to sleep, the person who put a cold washcloth on your forehead when you woke in the middle of the night with a fever, the person who made your favorite breakfast on saturday mornings is the person who counts most in a kid’s world.

confession: the first confession felt celebrity cheap and gossipy sleazy until i revised it in my head and remembered that this morning technically began like every morning—meditating in bed, getting up to pee, then stepping on the scale. mental health, kidney health, and eating disordered ritual get immediate priority every morning.

confession: if i could do the only thing he has asked of me then this present cycle we’re circling would end. but since i can’t, something bigger is happening and i need to change, stop, heal, choose, and release something bigger than i’ve done so far.

confession: if i had to live my life over again i’d choose differently in almost every situation…and still probably end up exactly where i am. i figure that from here i can choose differently at every opportunity…and i’ll probably still end up in the same situations and arrive at the same conclusions by the end.

confession: if i didn’t love so much so hard so fast then i might feel like i had more choices available, but i’d most likely choose selfishly and that wouldn’t feel better.

confession: for decades i’ve studied the concept of freedom from a buddhist perspective–freedom from suffering, freedom from desire, freedom from the little ego’s attachments, freedom from reacting, freedom from fear. reading about freedom frees up space in my mind and heart to love more and harder and faster and softer and gentler and quieter.

confession: i wrote a long and sad and beautiful love letter to myself yesterday and addressed it to you. i wanted to post it here but didn’t. instead i sent it to the one who would best understand its context, who would read the most sadness and beauty and love in it. i wanted to write you another letter today, something shorter and sweeter and happier, but i fell down the rabbit hole of tmz celebrity gossip reports (something i’ve never done before because gossip is crap and i don’t have time for that crap) and i filled my coffee cup with diet root beer instead of lemon ginger tea and i’m making generally poor choices thus far today. i’ve been making generally poor choices for weeks and months and maybe longer. i’d like to buy a new car and pack my bags and leave…and i will when summer comes, but in this here-and-now moment i’m gonna hit the reset button, go back to bed, meditate, get up to pee, skip the habit of evaluating my self-worth by the number on the scale, and make myself a cup of tea. i’m gonna start this day over but do it differently this time. we have the freedom to start over in every moment. i’m enacting the power of that freedom now.

 

 

 

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About angel joy

love is an action verb. i live love in action.
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