I originally started blogging as a way of keeping alive my travel memories. Most of my blog posts were private and I never wanted to share it with the world. But I realized that memories grow with sharing. That keeping memories hidden in a corner of my world was an insult to the Beautiful Art of Memory. So, I made this blog open to all. Slowly, this blog became my shout to the world as well. From just travel postings, it became a resting place for my thoughts, my feelings, and a barbaric yawp from the rooftops of my mind.
I have refused to publicize this blog in any way, though I know as an ex-digital marketing and communication professional just what I should do to get a 1,000 visitors a day to this blog. I prefer instead to let the words here make their quiet way in the Universe. Those who these words touch, I hope that the words made them smile that day, think about Life a little that day, or just cry with the joy of being alive that day.
I want to say here that we are all raw. That we are all going through the deepest pain and the highest happiness. That we feel the same.That we are all the same. That we all lead ‘lives of quiet desperation.’ But that it need not be that all the time. That life gives us an opportunity to create ourselves anew. That every moment is a second of our choosing. That we are bound only by the chains of our mind. That beautiful transformation exists in the cocoons of our souls. That every flower that wakes in the morning is you.
I spent much of last year trying to let go of twin feelings of hurt and abandonment from two people. I don’t want to relapse into that phase. I don’t want anger to corrode my self again. It’s amazing that patterns and people seem to repeat themselves in my life. I never seem to learn my lessons. I am angry with myself for trusting despite knowing the signs. I am angry with people who make it convenient to cover themselves with martyrdom under the guise of not hurting me.
I am a lot of things – moody, irascible, arrogant, vain, sarcastic, annoying, short-tempered, but I am also a star in an endless sky; the water that moves rocks; the rain that shines in the sun. When my soulfriend, Travelling Birdy, last year started to leave comments on my blog posts and follow me on Goodreads when we weren’t talking, I cringed in anger. I was angry because this soul connection didn’t have the courage to talk to me in real life, to restore what was broken between us, but wanted to choose the impersonal medium of social media to connect with me. Her intention was to be in my life in some way. But I am not some way. Should I have commented on her blog as well? We would become great blogger friends? Should I have wept tears and felt so grateful that I am left these crumbs? She had left me with no way of being in her life. Our connection was too intense and beautiful to be reduced to pithy comments. I refused to accept her degradation of one of the greatest relationships I have known.
When people walk out of my life, I make a clean break. I don’t need to be on their FB or other accounts, liking their dessert or reacting to their newest baby. I don’t classify that as ‘not leaving.’ Words like that are just semantics to cover the reality.
This is who I am. I am proud to be that. I am not just the worm in the apple. I am the rotten core of a decaying tree. But a tree that still blooms. That still flowers. That still leaves its flowers for others to pluck.
What happened with Travelling Birdy is repeating itself again. I won’t allow that. So, from today, I have disabled comments on my blog posts. I am removing the newsletter subscription. If you like what you read, have the courage to text me, call me, or mail me. I don’t know how long I will keep this restriction, but for now, I am tired of being treated like trash. No one keeps souvenirs from the garbage. If I am trash, throw the whole waste out.
