Lately, I’ve been doing this thing where I’m really, truly, in the deepest pit of my heart, trying to figure out what the hell it is that’s been holding me back in life. Intense for a Monday, I know, but Monday’s are intense by nature so I’m just going to go with it.
If I’m completely and utterly real with myself here’s the naked goddamn truth: I’m not where I want to be in my life.
I’m not there financially (not even close).
I’m not there in my career (I feel as if I’ve been stagnant for years).
I’m not there in my health (I have yet to be consistently healthy).
I’m not there in my self-discipline (I dive in, fierce and hard, only to burn out and collapse in exhaustion).
Most pressingly: I’m not there in the general evolution of self (this one breaks my heart, sweeps up the pieces and tosses them into a lonely dumpster in the back of a gray, sad building in a neglected part of the city ).
And I understand that we’re having a moment where it’s very trendy to be “easy” on yourself — to lovingly pat yourself on the back for simply showing up — where it’s cool to share memes during the workday that say shit like “I am so much more than my productivity!” But all that “laziness equals self-love” jargon doesn’t resonate with my spirit. I’m hungry for more and you don’t get more by bestowing yourself with a bevy of enthusiastic congratulations for merely pulling your body out of bed.
You get more in life by being fearlessly honest.
By studying your own history, without a filter, and examining what’s f*cking up your life. By asking yourself: What are these roadblocks that keep getting in the way of the journey I know I was destined for? (Just don’t blink when the answer appears).
And that start’s with…Self-reflection.
Self-reflection is hard but I’m doing it.
It’s not easy. Self-reflection is hard. I understand, on a cellular level, why people avoid it. I’ve avoided it for most of my life. I’m notorious for drowning out the wise voices that live inside of me, for silencing the higher self who tells me what it is that I’m *really* called to do in this life — because I know that if I answer that voice — I can’t hide anymore. I can’t hide from the truth. I have to face it.
But you know what’s harder than facing the unapologetic, harsh, yet beautiful goddess that is the truth? Living in this constant state of dissatisfaction and resentment. Living in this constant state of jealousy over other women who achieved the success I so desire. Living in this constant state of trying to trick myself into thinking I’m happy. When I’m not happy. And lying to myself isn’t softening the blow anymore.
So let’s make a change. A great, bold, exciting, earth-shattering, transformative change.
The first step is to stop blaming everyone, isn’t it?
I’m done blaming men. I’m done blaming my circumstance. I’m done blaming the past. I’m done blaming any entity except myself. Because placing blame on anything outside of ourselves, completely gives away our power. It, quite literally, snatches the power out of our capable, strong hands and gives it away to someone or something less deserving.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to give my power away anymore. So here I am on this snowy Monday taking the blame. And guess what? It feels really f*cking good.
Because when the blame is in my hands, I am in control of what I do with it. And I’m choosing to let it go. I’m going to open my palms and stretch my arms out wide and release it into the ether. It feels like a million weights are being released from chest. It feels like shackles have been sawed off my wrists. It feels like a fresh start.
I feel light. I feel free. I feel ready to get to work.
When I take accountability for my f*ckups, I feel extraordinarily powerful. Like I’m the one that is fully in control of my life. Of my day. Of how I react. Of each razor-sharp moment. I’m steering the ship and my hands are firmly clutching the wheel and as I blaze into the ocean, I’m seeing a small, unexpected iceberg that has the potential to end it all.
A guess what that iceberg is, babes?
The Mindless social media scrolling that is destroying me.
I’ve been scrolling through Instagram so much, little sister.
I know it sounds trite, but I think scrolling is the vicious devil adorned in a pretty innocent pink dress.
Did you know that the average person scrolls the height of Mt. Everest in a year? I’m no exception, for so much of my valuable time on earth is spent not reading, not taking in anything of value — just gazing into heavily filtered pictures with vapid, bitchy captions documenting aspirational lifestyles that don’t even really exist outside the static screen of a smartphone. I’m channeling my energy into something that isn’t even…real. How sad.
Whenever I have a quiet moment I catch myself completely numb and scrolling, scrolling, scrolling. I’m on auto-pilot. I’m not even here. I’m not paying attention to life. And life is the great inspiration for any artist. No wonder I’ve felt so wildly un-creative! No wonder I’ve felt this soul-scorching lack of depth! What kind of shallow life existence is it that climbs the height of Everest without basking in any real, natural beauty?
Instagram, Facebook, Twitter — whatever — they don’t bring me feelings of bliss and I need feelings of bliss in order to keep moving. This incessant social media scrolling only makes me feel itchy. It knocks me off kilter. It pulls me out of alignment. It disturbs my natural rhythms. It doesn’t feed me but it makes me more and more hungry.
So there’s no more scrolling in my world anymore starting this week. If I want to be inspired by a social media account that actually brings me real, honest joy and value (and they do exist!) I’ll go directly to that page and take in the content. But no more reckless self-medicating by losing myself in the toxic sea of the mindless scroll.
It’s a simple goal, but sometimes it’s only once we’ve cleared these tiny, seemingly insignificant things out of our lives that we realize how much space they were taking up. It’s like getting rid of an old, ugly couch. You think the couch is harmless, and then you finally give it away and realize that your tiny, depressing apartment is teeming with so much gorgeous space. You realize that the little couch blocked out the window with the most beautiful light. You realize you’re so much happier without that thing in there.
So there it is. My intention for the week. Self-reflect in an honest way. Stop blaming everyone else for my bullshit. And stop scrolling my life away.
What are your intentions for the week, babe? Message me!