Smudging up your life?

When you erase something on paper, a mark is left. A smudge–remnants of a word or thought that used to be and no longer is worthy. We all have smudges. Some are more apparent than others. Some we are able to write over without notice. Smudges shows that we made a decision–a change. That decision put forth a word, that formed a sentence, that created an organized thought. What we erase directs us to what we write. Smudges do not dictate, but reinforce the fact that under the story that was written there was another.

Paper is what our public lives are. We write, draw, and erase. The finished product is presented in the way that we want. But, that does not mean we write or draw the truth of our reality. No, life is made up of highs and lows. And it’s true, the highs are high, and the lows are damn low. But when we look at our life as a whole, we calculate the overall happiness that we’ve felt. Then, we recalculate according to how we want to feel about it all. So, we erase what we want, and we accentuate what we want. The only person who knows the truth about the smudges is the writer. So, as a writer, an artist, any living person really, it is our duty to ourselves to understand the differences between the smudges and that which we replace them with. Understanding what we don’t want is just as important as knowing what we do want. They go hand in hand and without the other we are just acting and reacting to a feeling, or an emotion really, that has no basis–no foundation. This is where the lost stay lost. This is the rut that we can’t seem to get out of. This is the bad mood we can’t swing.

Being true to yourself is what could propel you into the direction of the person you want to be. Or, at least a better version of yourself. Because one version isn’t enough. We deserve to be the best, and we often hinder ourselves ignoring why we created the smudges in our life. Some smudges are necessary and crucial for development, and understanding these smudges may be more imperative to our well being. Undeniably, what we write is what the world sees. What we know about ourselves can not only tell the world a better story, but a more detailed one. And isn’t that what life is all about? The details.

It comes down to the same ‘ol thing. Say what you want to say. Mean what you say. Know why you are saying it. I think this is one of those lessons that we consistently relearn and adapt to as we change and grow. And, I think it’s harder than it seems.

Does it have to make sense?

Three months. It has taken me three months to feel like the bed I’m sleeping in, is in fact, mine. The realism of being away from my everything–my family, friends, and familiarity is sinking in like falling in quicksand. My foot got stuck in the mud–well, more purposefully than stuck–and sooner than I thought I was knee deep. Standing there, looking at my surroundings, I can see how I could call this new place my home. But, before I get myself to feel absolutely good about it, my head is under the dirt. Just in the moments before, I found myself questioning things–ok, everything. I am in the ground sucking for the air I once knew.

On the less dramatic side, you could say that moving to a different state hits ya surprisingly. Surely, I thought I would be a wreck being away from everything.  But, moving wasn’t the hard part. Getting a job wasn’t the hard part. Being on unfamiliar ground wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was finding out three months in, that I may not be in as good emotional shape as I thought. Sure, I’m a strong gal. And, life is great. I am blessed and I am grateful. But life is different. Life is tough, and sometimes life hurts. Being all on my own? Body and mind… It’s something. Something. Something. It’s something I know I wanted, and something I know I needed. Need.

Learning things about yourself, that’s where it happens. That’s where you realize that you may have done the right thing for yourself.

What really got me is realizing that every day doesn’t have to be a good day, and you don’t have to feel good all the time.

But uhhhh that’s all I’ve been trying to do!–making the most out of my days. Running away from the sadder feelings that are in me somewhere, and I run fast…

But all good must come to an end. I guess. Sometimes.

And you know what? When I did confront those flitterings of sad feelings, I felt sad. As I should. But what was surprising is that it also felt good.

Realizing how you really feel about things feels good. Embracing it, that feels even better. Running away from the inner workings of myself left me confused, about everything. And truth be told, I am still confused about the whole shit of it all. But it feels good to know that I am on the same page with myself. At least as much as I can be at the moment.

And isn’t that enough?

After I pull myself out of the quicksand called life, this new air feels…great.