confessions from a pillow fort

confession: in college i had a dance professor who told me the most healing thing she’d learned to do in her fifty years on the planet was to wrap herself in a pink blanket and cry when she needed to cry, to let the pink blanket hold her in a way her mother and ex-husband never did. i’ve bought many pink blankets in my adulthood for myself and others. i donated my pink blankets before i moved last year. i wanted to leave their tear-soaked healing in the place where i cried the tears. but today i’m here again, in this place i’ve cried the most tears, without a pink blanket. i put on pink socks, pink panties, a pink shirt and made a pillow fort that i’m not leaving all day.

confession: his birthday is today. he is eight years old today. but i haven’t seen him since he was three.

confession: i can do anything i want. the choices are too many. i remain in the pillow fort and read a book.

confession: you can do anything you want. i hear the excuses you make for why not. i’m calling bullshit.

confession: in my limitless available choices, it is easier for me to notice what i don’t choose than what i’m choosing because i’m choosing not to _____, ______, and ______. i choose to continue not doing rather than doing.

confession: given that my singular goal is enlightenment, i was stupefied to realize that i waited until last week to revisit my practice of humility. my last round of practice with humility was a couple years ago, but i didn’t understand the essence of humility since i tried using humility as a weapon to beat down insecurity and arrogance. humility doesn’t battle ego. humility partners with self-worth and lightly follows the unknowing into a creative spiraling chaos, holding hands as equals.

confession: she listens. i talk fast and repeat myself, trying to get all the words out before i censor any. after listening, she talks more slowly without repeating. i wish i could talk without repeating but i synthesize through repetition. i’m grateful for her patient listening.

confession: i got what i asked for. having received it, i’m not sure i want it. i left my hometown because i had become too comfortable in that environment. living 1,700 miles from home is more uncomfortable than i imagined possible.





About angel joy

love is an action verb. i live love in action.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s