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May 18, 2010



Hi Sandi,
Wow, this resonates. I would also agree very much with Kaye that the order is Desire, Will, Acceptance, Commitment. I long for/want to do it, I will do it, I accept that I can do it, I commit to doing it!

Right now, I am going through a time in my life where I am not sure what the Desire for the Will (or the Will) is...I really thought I knew, once upon a time. I know I said things related to it--but is that it?
Or am I simply hiding? There is a part of me that suspects the latter.

And I argue with myself. It's not as if my childhood was ALL bad. Nothing is ever so black and white. I had friends, we created worlds, and sometimes our games and stories manifested and reflected here. We saved ourselves from our own soul's dying. I knew that despite my pain, I was a wild bright thing, and I hungered, and a voice in my head that was in part my own always gave the right advice and I knew I'd get out of this and move on to all the possibilities and magic in the world. And I hungered for that magic.

As time went by, however, after undergrad, I got disconnected. It got harder to push aside the words of my mother and her fears, and I went through a period of isolation and disconnect from people.

And now...I look for that self again, I am looking for what she has become now and I mourn some of what has been.

Sometimes, I tremble and hear that whisper growing, "What if...what if you just dropped this? This safe little mask that you've accepted, the act that you forgot was just a role. The suffering you've accepted in fear of the work, trading in talent for abuse. Let go. Let go and just do it--just do it like you used to do, even if you are afraid. Remember when you were afraid AND excited? Or so excited you got a little afraid? Come on, come on, wake up, just reach for it and pick it up again."

"It"...power, desire...so many things I am not even sure what all of them are. But there is a fear that some of it is responsibility--equated in my mind falsely with burden, with a draining of the self that came from lack of boundaries, of spinning myself out for everyone but myself for a number of years and trying to be fed from that without tending to my needs. (Or even being able to really identify them.)

There is a part of me that loathes myself for even remotely hesitating (and some days, it has words that are the same as my mother's--oh, how we learn), while the other part tries to figure out what all this is. And sorry to be so vague, but the vagaries capture what I feel at the moment. Something builds under the skin.

What if...what if...

I wonder.

(This seems to have become my morning pages for the day. Thank you!)

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