Throughout the years that I was trapped in the hellish lie of isolation, I simply could not cultivate anything I recognized as freedom. Coming out of the closet as a lesbian, mothering in a way that felt true for me, and standing up to people who treated me badly were all freeing experiences, but nothing ever left me feeling truly free. I made movements toward it but never once came even close to the peace and calm and knowing that has settled into me of late.
I can see now that for many years, I’d been frantically and unsuccessfully trying to tap a dry well. I was profoundly disconnected from my Source, walking around in the world trying to solve this on my own. I felt alone and searched endlessly for ways to be better, stronger, smarter, more powerful, more attractive, more… whatever I would need to be for my needs and desires to be met. I tried to be “good enough.” I gave the pursuit everything I had, literally, and came up more and more short with each attempt. I was moving away from freedom, becoming more restricted and hurt and afraid.
I could not have tried any harder to cultivate freedom, and I had undeniably failed to do it by my own hand. I tried so hard that I was exhausted by the near constant battle in my head. Perhaps that was the genius of it all. I was finally weary enough, broken down enough… to be still. I was done. I had no more ideas or impulses or game plans, so I just stopped. I surrendered.
I turned off the television and turned on music that moves me. I spent time connecting with human beings, truly connecting. Not strategically. Not with the goal of fixing anything that was broken about my life. I just connected, intentionally, with the ones who crossed my path. I supported them and allowed myself to be supported by them. I laughed and listened and loved the experiences that were coming into my world.