Diary Edition: A Letter

 Photo credit:  Camille Kimberly  

Photo credit: Camille Kimberly 

This entry is sort of a random one. A lot of the times, I write just to write. It's one of the ways I cope, and I let my fingers do the talking. Sometimes I look back and get something new out of what I had previously written that I might not have recognized before. This is a bit more personal, but I think it is worth sharing and potentially relatable. I must've written this nearly two years ago now, but I still feel the same way. Here goes.

 

To my passion, inspiration and fascination:

In this moment, I have to rely on the proof of miracles and the foundations of faith. Nouns are not enough the describe what you three have done for me. To the later (fascination), I thank you for giving me a never ending supply of curiosity. Curiosity is a double edged sword at times, and the idea that you can change your mind at anytime based on curiosity alone is overwhelmingly powerful. When I think back to the person I was, many things stick out, but fascination was not necessarily one of them. But curiosity is something that I always had. The precursors to fascination may just be passion and inspiration. To figure out the signs, the ones we must follow on our path/journey, I guess one must actually find some sort of attachment to them. Then, to piece together something you hadn't even understood before at that critical moment, man that's exciting. It's fun. It's scary. It can disrupt your entire being, good or bad. It can also set you in motion.

Inspiration often comes in waves, but now that I can tap into it rather that allowing them to remain fleeting thoughts. Before I would just question myself and my curiosity and chuckle. Most of the time I could just ignore it because I never knew what to do with it. The person I used to be would only worry about tangible things, things I could see. Inspiration has led me to examine the things I can feel. The ideas I used to have when I was a little girl were now jumping out at me at rapid pace. The fleeting moments that I never forgot became the inspiration. To be there again. To get a grasp of that, what I now know is energy, is again the inspiration. The trying time I was in made me face so many things I never had the guts to face before. Inspiration also allows me to listen. Listen for that thing I never heard before, that perspective I never considered. Look for that silver lining along the path. Look!

Passion. Wow. What a noun. I don't even know how to really explain the way the word makes me feel deep down inside. Beyond telling myself to stop, beyond what I can see and what the world sees, beyond what others think, right there, that fire of passion rages. You can have a passion for something/someone or you can be passionate based on how your personality is perceived. I am passion. That pit of my stomach feels like it burns with a light I can't dim. I can't smolder it. I've tried, but I can't put it out. I don't know that I can bear to imagine that my passion may never materialize, but I still have dreams. My passion taught me to dream again. To live and to love again. If anything, I can say that it was truly meant to be, regardless of the outcome. The recurring nightmare is gone. Passion is an urge that you better not control because that's the one thing that will haunt you the most in the end. Not living out your passion and forgetting the "what if's" you put out into the universe is the demise of dreams. It's there, and it's energy that needs to be released back into the vibration of the world. Do it with love, do it with intention, but mostly, do it! Celebrate, eat the cake, pop the balloons and the bubbly, literally and metaphorically: we only live once!