Outer Space and Sweaty Thighs

I’ve been reading a lot of poetry lately. Rupi Kaur, Atticus, Cleo Wade… they are speaking truths my heart doesn’t know how to express yet.

I am going to try and express an all-too-familiar feeling:
– When your brain is consumed with the questions of “where am I going?” “What am I doing?” “What does any of this matter?”
– When you’re unable to be present mentally because you’re too distracted by the constant analyzation of how you fit, and how you even got there.
– When every day you are tired because you’ve spent too long giving 110% and still don’t feel like you’re enough, but lay awake at night wondering how you can be better tomorrow.
– When you are surrounded by amazing people and opportunity, yet you find yourself wondering if there’s more.
– When you feel insanely inspired to live your truth, but in that same moment you experience the deepest pit of loneliness.

I’m not even sure what to call it. If I picture it in my head, I think of it as space. Literal space. Outer space. No gravity, No boundaries. Sporadic light. Deafening silence. Zero control over your movements or direction.

Let’s bring it back down to Earth. I know my potential, I know my intentions, I know my passions, and dreams, and what excites me. And when I feel this sticky, heavy feeling, it’s like I’m staring at all of those things that fill me, but I’m unable to experience them.

You know when you were a kid and there was the tallest slide in the playground that you just HAD to go on? And you climb up, sit your butt down, and think, “I’m gunna fly!” But then your sweaty thighs stick to the metal/plastic/whatever and you end up having to scoot in a stop-and-go fashion all the way to the bottom cuz you don’t know how else to bail.

It’s that feeling. Conflict, desire, anguish, exhaustion, doubt, embarrassment, outer space and sweaty thighs.

This isn’t a new feeling. I can probably even scroll through all my posts this past year and pick out a few times I’ve tried to express it.

BUT what I’ve learned is that when I feel this way, it means I’m somehow not living my truth. I’m not in line with what makes me, me. My MAVERICK is off.

There’s a cycle… I’m sure you know it. We feel the shift out of our zone. We get sad and lazy and take a few days to allow ourselves to do nothing. Then we start to over think and over analyze and our mind shifts from thinking we need a little rest to thinking we’ve done something wrong. Then we start to get desperate, looking for validation through others that we’re actually okay. Then we start to get defensive and angsty, taking everything as a personal attack and wondering why the world is all of a sudden out to get you.

And then finally, we explode.

Now that may look different for everyone, but I think ultimately, we reach a point where we need to get it out. Vent.

Here’s where I landed this week: I’m being selfish. My world revolves around me. I am always looking for ways that I can benefit, be the best, or “get ahead”, whether it be at work, in the gym, in friendships, or in relationships.

Brutal honesty.

Despite my good intentions, and my kind-hearted actions, I am flawed by the desire to win. I think it’s something I’ve always known to be true, but it’s such a normal part of me, that I haven’t been willing to challenge it.

Growing up, I was defined by my accomplishments. As an athlete, a musician, and a scholar with divorced parents and 4 siblings, achieving became the vehicle to be seen. It was a medium by which I earned praise, love, and attention. Naturally, my instincts have lead me to believe that I have to use that formula to continue to feel those things.

Ironically, those actions are keeping me from what I desire: connecting more fully with others and stepping into a truer me.

Instinct. I really like that word.

As MAVERICK continues to grow and shape and challenge me, I find that my instinct is now drawn to purity of heart. I want to learn to love, without expectation. I want to learn to be, without putting on a show for attention. I want to learn to stand in confidence, without relying on the praise of others to lift me up.

I don’t think it’ll be a difficult journey. A long one maybe, I have 27 years of habits to alter. But a difficult one… no. Because as much as this inner-tension is causing me pain right now, the beauty is in the fact that I wouldn’t feel it at all if my heart didn’t want to change.

I’m honored that the universe has decided that I’m now up for the challenge. I am now strong enough where I can embrace more change; I can develop further into the person that this world needs me to be.

I release myself from tension.
I speak genuineness into my heart.
I welcome a life in which I am the BAMF I’m called to be by way of truly loving and lifting others up.
I have a grateful soul.
I am love, without expectation.

It took falling…again, before I could be honest with myself…again. It took acknowledging that I wasn’t okay…again, and validating my feelings…again, before I could make space for the healing…again. It took word-vomiting all over someone I trust…again, before realizing that I was going to be okay…again.

It’s really just a pattern, this thing we called life. So like anything, I guess practice makes perfect! Or… you know… better? Anyway – – Let yourself be heard, let yourself be human,  and give yourself the freedom to be brutally honest.

I just took a deep breath and it felt really good. Honesty is freedom.

Alright, where did I leave off?

Oh yea…

I’m floating through outer space, and my thighs are stuck to a slide. But, not for long. Shifting into this next-level of MAVERICK – – one of gratefulness, genuine love, and selfless giving – – is a grounding experience. One that I hope to share. And one that I hope is just another small push within the momentum of greatness this world has for me.

Because, the world needs nothing more than for us to be exactly who we are.

this is the recipe of life
said my mother
as she held me in her arms as I wept
think of those flowers you plant
in the garden each year
they will teach you
that people too
must wilt
in order to bloom

  • Rupi Kaur

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