A beautiful disaster is still beautiful.

My head has been a swirl of questions about my life, relationship, and especially how I am and who I show up as in the world. I went into the jungle for a week, and to be completely transparent, it wasn’t easy, except not for the reasons I expected.

I always have and will continue to hold myself to a status that sometimes is impossible for me to attain, I have, at times, lowered this bar so I could reach it, and all it does is frustrate me. That is not who I am; I do not seek mediocrity.

I mean, ya, maybe to the outsider looking, my life is mediocre, at best.

Yet it may seem incredible or a complete disaster. I often describe myself as a beautiful disaster because there is so much beauty in catastrophe. That is where I grow the most; when I am in a hole and think, how will I ever get out of this?

That was me last week. Questioning my life, what am I doing, who am I, is it all a lie, what more is there, or what is the point?

Not that I planned on receiving an answer to these questions, but asking questions always helps me find clarity, especially within myself.

Well, I left the jungle yesterday more confused than when I went into the wilderness. Going in thinking, I have this whole life thing figured out, wake up, breathe and try to be a good human.

I was living a lie, that is the basics, and I have never claimed to be basic, nor will I ever. I prefer extremes; even though I seek balance, most of my balance is found while balancing one foot on both ends, and I have a plate on my nose; who knows?

Apparently, not me. I am severely introverted, and most people who meet me do not see this. I appear to be extroverted, but it put me in a situation where I am uncomfortable and will not want anything to do with anything, as this past week was.

I have also realized I do not go with the grain, and that is part of me; I have tried to fit the round peg into a star, and let me tell you, I will never again.

Do I know my version of peg fitting now? If you are a star and I am a star, I will slowly discover I am a star with curved edges, not sharp. Don’t ask me why; I don’t know.

Rebellious by nature, refusing to fit in even if I do, is it ego?? Who the hell knows?

I was in a situation where I was highly uncomfortable, and when my energy felt your energy was not genuine, authentic, or a sham, I clam down. I also am used to being unheard and unseen; this may be why I am a writer. I am not good at communicating with words and many misinterpret what I say. So why speak, right? So I don’t.

I don’t have to prove myself to anyone, which is another lesson I have learned. (The irony of my writing this is not lost on me either, but yet again, another page from my diary)

I had an experience, and the experience showed me you never have to conform to others, and it is ok that some of us do not run in packs and slowly walk alone.

I enjoy meeting others who get me along the way, but joining their group will never happen. I used to pretend I could fit in and twist myself to be part of it, but I no longer can.

I change my mind every minute of the day, which makes a lot of people go crazy; that is their issue, not mine. If I want to write a story tomorrow about joining a gym and finding a group of people I love, know I am not joining their pack.

I am my person interacting in a group, and then I will leave. Do not expect me to be the same version of myself always. I have ethics and values, which is the only thing that will never change, even if they are sometimes impossible for me to reach.

I would rather keep going than settle for mediocrity; I already did that this past year. It almost killed me; I watched myself wither into a caged bird that forgot she had wings. I will never willingly lock myself into a cage again.

I will never allow anyone to cut my wings or cut them myself, and I will not let the outside world’s influence affect my balance, even if it is never balanced. Life is a rollercoaster, a river that never stops; even when there is a waterfall when the waterfalls, it always lands precisely as it should.

A fall from grace, a kick to my ego, the only way to move on is to crawl out of the hole and not allow others to pull me back down. And be ok that I am dirty and unkempt, as that is my beautiful disaster.

Making sense or not is part of processing emotions and realizing that it’s ok not to be ok, and it is ok not to want to be surrounded by anyone; walking alone is not bad; it’s only bad when you accept the judgment of those around you who do not get you.

The only person who has to understand me is me; the only person I care about gets me is me. I know at my core who I am; I like to change the frosting a lot.

The Shaman in the woods told me I am like the Pica Flor, a hummingbird, and I fly from flower to flower and deliver messages, but if the receiver does not hear the message, I still have done my job.

Who knows if anything means anything at all? After all, do live on a big round ball that rotates. We have no control over anything when we look at the big picture except our thoughts and reactions.

So does anything even matter anyway?

XOXO

S

Originally published here.