Some days, feels my soul has left my body
Feel I’m floating high above me
Like I’m looking down upon me
Start sinking, every time I get to thinking
It’s easier to keep on moving
Never stop to let the truth in
Sometimes I feel like a little lost child
Sometimes I feel like the chosen one
Sometimes I wanna shout out ’til everything goes quiet
Sometimes I wonder why I was ever born ~~~ Keane
It’s been a strange week. To tell you the truth… it’s been a strange 9 months — it’s been a strange 2010. Some wild, wonderful, beautiful, scary, embarrassing, near the edge of sanity things have happened. Some I’ve shared… most I’ll keep locked in the vault for all eternity.
Two conversations I had this week — two completely polar opposite conversations that I had with two women I respect — I believe summed up these 9 months. The first conversation was angry and scary and cut me deep — something it needed to do. Someone who forced me to look at myself and take notice. The second conversation was warm and enlightening and heartfelt and held me close — something it needed to do. Again, someone who forced me to look at myself and take notice.
And then a message from a friend, as if she was hearing my thoughts, at the most perfect time — “so I turned myself to face me”. I kept that David Bowie inspired message… and turned to face me. Not always pretty. Not always easy. Not always simple or pleasant or filled with light. Sometimes the darkness brings us the most clarity.
I guess it would be unfair if I wrote a post about facing ourselves and then didn’t include some of the not so perky (and some perky) things I see when I look at myself (especially since I’m about to ask you to play along). When I turned myself to face me I saw many different things:
- A damn good mother
- A damn good teacher
- A friend to most
- A little girl lost
- A spite filled woman
- An attention seeker
- An attention avoider
- A writer
- A hack
- A protagonist
- An isolationist
- A confrontationalist
- A passive aggressive mouse
- A woman with a pretty good life — to take notice, to participate in, to embrace
So I’m turning myself to face me — the scariest thing I think any of us could ever do. And, I’m realizing it’s not an adventure I can take on my own. I’ve reached out to those who can reach back — too late to avoid ill-will, too late for redemption, too late for most anything… except me. I think it’s just in time for me. What do you see, when you turn yourself to face you?