Y’all, I have been saying some seriously hippie shit lately. I just want to put that out there.
I’ve used the phrase ‘spiritual journey’ no less than three times in the past twenty-four hours. I talk about the Universe like it’s someone I could text from the goddamn bus stop. I am a mere hop, skip, and a downward-facing dog from hanging crystals from the rafters and saying nonsensical things about my chakra.
Let’s tone it down a little.
Sincerely Yours, The Universe
The truth is that I am both lost and found, simultaneously. Or rather, I have found that I am lost, which is, I believe, its own kind of compass. I am closing my eyes and I am waiting for North to tell me where it is.
I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes. I don’t want to be so closed to it. I want to be not fearless, but without fear. I want to be open-hearted, ego waiting quiet on the doorstep while the grown-ups do their business.
But most of the time, my heart’s hiding, or shriveled, or working against itself. And most of the time, my ego’s ringing the doorbell like its finger’s stuck on the buzzer. And most of the time, I think existentialism sounds easier, because at least then you know what you’re working with.