the word truth has been coming up a lot in my life over the last few days, the first few days of this new year, this year of the dragon.
i recently downloaded this album, truth, found on some random blog. and here's another song i can't stop listening to, truth, over and over again. in yoga last night, the instructor spoke of truth, in our practice, and by extension, in our lives. finding the truth in each pose, being honest with yourself, pushing yourself where you need to push, going easy on yourself where you might be judgemental. truth. being honest with yourself is the only way you can enjoy your life. well, for me at least, this is my truth. and i know, as sometimes i feel as if i've spent my whole life lying to myself. trying to be other people. trying to live other lives. never really accepting who i am and what i am and all of that. at least not in a general sense. it's not true all the time, but that feeling is most definitely there. i've had moments of acceptance, beautiful experiences of truth. i will dedicate myself to living those moments more and more. last night, deep into a pigeon pose i thought would never end, various parts of my body screaming at me, i suddenly had a smile on my face - that uncomfortable position i found myself in was, in that moment, my truth, my whole truth, and nothing but my truth, and right there there in the center of it, amidst the exhaustion and sweat and pain and doubt and self-loathing and insecurity and fear and non-acceptance and inflexibility, there was joy. and that joy was more truth than i had felt all day. and suddenly all of that other stuff was okay. i was going to be okay. no, i was already okay. and this couldn't be anything other than truth.
i think part of it is when you feel like you are somehow "different" from other people - when you don't fit it - it can be hard to accept yourself. i've never really felt like i belonged here, like i had a lot in common with most people, like i related to this world and the strange habits and customs and thinking patterns of most of the people i meet. so i grew up hiding. hiding who i was. because i was scared of being called a weirdo, a freak, or of being laughed at, not accepted. the painful truth of this, however, is that my own fear of others not accepting me, caused in me an inability to truly embrace who i was/am, and to experience the simple joy of being that person (me). and now of course i'm so caught up in the living of this pretend adult life that we all have to do, that i don't even know if i'll ever find my way back to being who i am. and the further irony of that, is by writing about this struggle/process/dilemma, i am doing exactly that (what i love - writing), and being exactly who i am, and loving it inside and out. "i love it when a plan comes together," even if it's not my plan, but the plan of the gods, who seem to pleasure in keeping me in the dark until the last moment.
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