Past me, present me, and future me, conspire to make my highest potential self arise forth! Like the epicness of a trotting white horse, I remind myself daily what a white witch I am. I remind myself that I am a whole, entire person pursuing the deliciousness of my vocation which has all been brought to this moment. The past me is desiring reassurance, a fake future, to skip many steps, for parts of my reality to not be what it is, sticky companionship, and answers that currently don’t exist. Present me is desiring a conquering of my fears, a releasing of my grief, and an unabashed moment of expression where it’s a turn-on. Future me is asking me to let all of these things go. Even the juicy sounding ones, and you know, maybe especially those.
Future me, wants me to come up for a long period of air to take stock in myself and all that I have achieved, and have yet to achieve. Future me wants me to see how evidence of success is now a part of my daily path. Like when God asked Mary if she would birth Jesus, and she said yes – so have I been saying yes to inspiration and thus, creation. These divine gifts only have power if we birth them into existence – and no one can know that I am a gift if I don’t bare my soul to them. No one can know the potential greatness of accepting me as I am, if I don’t bare the soft raw innards of who I truly am.
As of yet, I’ve been burying myself in shrouds of suitcases, and garment bags; filled with clothes that no longer suit me anymore. As of yet, I’ve been lugging these bags onto others’ arms and apologize to their weary eyes. As of yet I’ve been shunning friends who hand me their old clothes, because I have enough of my own, when all I really wanted to wear was a puffy-sleeved party dress. As of yet, I see a lot of things left to do and yet for some reason I feel like the time ahead of me is dark and empty.
Why would my world feel so black and empty, with just one person gone, and a holiday invented by society, when my projects and the phone calls I could make will stay the same? Why am I so afraid of going back to the life I was leading before my present, when my present manifested my dream of staring at my phone like an idiot? All I really wanted this whole time was to feel that spark and giddiness again, and now that I’ve achieved that, why isn’t it enough?
My future self is telling my present self that I’m trampling all over my party dress with my old, crappy, tattered and torn clothes. Sometimes my future self is a bitch; and I can’t tell whether or not it’s ever a good idea to listen to her when it seems as though she likes to tell me all the ways in which my present self is fucking this up. What if I have multiple future selves though? And why is it that my most lovely, eligible, and give-no-fucks future self, shows up so seldomly? Why do I have to summon visions of her to my present self and why doesn’t she ever speak to me? Then I remember that, the best version of my potential self, doesn’t look at the past. She doesn’t mind who I was years back, or now. All she cares about is who she is in that moment. She feels confident in where she is going, whether or not she’s going anywhere with any particular person. She isn’t tethered to these versions of myself.
Right now, I feel myself buried by my old crap that I’m trying to dig my way out of. I feel my strength, and the build up of grit. I’m the only one who can leave myself behind. And, maybe, I have to leave me, to not be afraid of others leaving me. I have to abandon these versions of myself, to no longer be afraid of being abandoned. The challenge of leaving behind it all is the strength not just to drop it and say goodbye; but to bless it with love and gratitude, and recognize that it does not spark joy in me anymore.