I’ve had this post in draft for far too long. Its time that I unleash it. “Unleash” like it’s a wild adventurous beast for your amusement. But really, it’s not. It’s not more. Or less. It’s a collection of photos that I’ve held close to my heart and haven’t had a moment to share them.
And I want to. I really want to. It’s been sitting in draft, and tonight, like any other night, I unleash my thoughts, I’ll add my words here.
I had this thought yesterday— what if something were to happen to me? What would happen to all my photos / my words/ my posts in drafts? Would they sit there never to be viewed? Would someone in my family think to check the draft section? Would they even care to check the draft section? Or are the only posts that mattered assumed to be shared? Or do they even know I have a draft section of so many half posts?
I don’t know.
So then, my question is:
Will only the thoughts we share be seen? What happens to all our other thoughts we hold? Do they disappear, buried with us? I so often wish there were ways to transfer my thoughts, you know, outside of this space.
I mean, there is journaling. And there is conversation. And there is art– I guess that art is certainly a form of communication too. But have you ever thought about all those other thoughts you’ve only shared and conversed with yourself? Does it bother you that they’ll stay between you– and your other brain– never to be shared?
Is it weird that I want to share everything?
Because I do.
And each and every night in bed I write a novel with myself.
A novel filled with all the thoughts I want to share, but never sit to write.
These photos sit somewhere in my life story. In my past and future dreams. In my safe place. I went to therapy a few weeks ago. I told you guys, I wanted to try it. And everything was backwards. I was stoic in sharing the parts that made me hurt. Composed. Always composed. But when asked to create a safe place in my brain, the tears came down.
I cried in my safe place. My safe place was supposed to be a place that I could retreat too in my mind– a place to keep my away from anxieties. But when I went into my safe place I cried. Because my safe place is a space with both my past and future dreams– a physical place I continually dream to be.
Maybe I didn’t follow the rules.
Or maybe I only allow myself to cry in a safe place.
I’m not sure.
I read this quote tonight:
“The reason you want every single thing you want, is because you think you will feel really good when you get there. But if you don’t feel really good on your way there, you can’t get there. You have to be satisfied with what-is while you’re reaching for more.”
And this really reached me.
I think because in my dreams– in the place I want to reach– things I want and the things I have are one in the same. I have my family. And I am grateful for them each and every single day. And I’m there, of course too, but it’s a healthy strong version of me that I’ve been striving for. And I think while I’m always grateful for all the things I have around me, I don’t place enough gratitude on the body what-is right now. More times than not, and as much as I hate admitting it, I hold fear in my body. Hence the reasoning behind therapy.
I can say I’m grateful and be grateful all I want. And I say I’m okay with myself all I want— or that I’m working on it, but I actually have to find a real way to be satisfied with my body that is now.
And so I’m sharing my thoughts. And my actions too. A new mantra. I plan to set an alarm. And tomorrow morning it will remind me to be satisfied in the body I’m in now. Because I am alive.
My safe place will wait for me.