dear reader, I reached enlightenment this week. Then promptly crashed and burned and cried and maybe died a little on the inside.
And it’s only midweek.
As you know, I have been feeling very much in my stride lately. I’ve deleted Instagram off my phone (ok, I have done this multiple times, but I think it’s sticking this time) and only can access it on my computer now. I wrote one of the heaviest pieces of my life for the memoir class (the 300th night of Bear’s nightmare in which I decided that I wanted to live and not just sacrifice feel like I was sacrificing myself, I couldn’t anymore. A win for writing, destruction for my heart and seeing myself as desperate is never a good feeling).
I sat again in front of my closet door mirrors to stare into my own eyes and recite “My name is Liz Vartanian and only good things happen to me.”
I do not want to be my trauma or trauma responses any more.
I went for a trail walks and listen to Lidia Yuknavitch’s “Chronology of Water” and had my heart ripped out by her writing and stories.
I feel good, I’m eating well and my close knit circle checks on me (and I, them) and I start the Far West Texas novel and I feel as if this is exactly where I am supposed to be.
Showing up with a heart full of love and books, so many books for the boys and myself and friends. My love language is words and I’m learning to be better at action. I’m learning how to be a safe harbor.
I feel like everything is great. This must be what the yogis, the buddhists, the extremely religious feel like when they ride the waves of righteousness. I feel light and beautiful and like I can do it all.