My life is amazing.
There is love, love, love and more love- in all its shapes and forms. Respect, appreciation, devotion. Laughter. Contentment. Love.
And as I sit here, in joy, I can feel that overwhelming exhaustion that sits there like the proverbial elephant in the room at having to be ‘happy’ all the time, at the façade that we feel that we need to put on in order to feel and be deemed ‘successful’ or even interact with the world. I know it’s not mine, rather a collective field that I am touching upon.
The first thought that comes to mind is: Fuck that.
Happyness is not my end-game. Don’t get me wrong, the bubbly excitement of being happy is beautiful. Like a first bite of gorgeous dark chocolate (preferably with sea salt AND chilies) and a sip of honey mead (newly discovered) and I regularly feel like a puppy on ecstasy running around with happiness vibes pouring through my veins, sparkling magic dust in ever expanding circles.
But it is a high that envelopes me, carresses me, kisses and loves me and then ebbs away, making space for the next experience of Life and living.
The gorgeousness of being human and ALIVE.
I was dancing yesterday. A Sunday morning groove. In the midst of the booty shaking, swirling, whirling body jamming, I found myself very close to the floor, with waves of grief spilling tears down my cheeks. Exquisite. Ecstasy.
I want it ALL and for me, ALL is not just the happy vibes, but the grief vibes and the I’ll yell at the top of my lungs if need be vibes, and the I’m human damnit vibes and the transcendent cosmic vibes. I want it All. I AM it all.
And underneath it all, a field of vast expansiveness. Of silence. Of stillness. Of the deepest joy and contentment. The Knowing of myself. Of being human. And Cosmic. And everything in between. Living in that Stillpoint that encompases the All is the art that I aspire to. Can we please have it ALL?