I stumbled to the bathroom at 630am, and knowing I didn’t have to be up for another half hour I laid back down, thinking I’d just snooze a little longer. I just was not feeling getting up yet, even though, deep down, I knew that I should. I knew I would oversleep. I ignored my gut and laid back down though. My bed was so cozy warm, my back was hurting, and it would be fine, right?
An hour and a half later I opened my eyes. I looked at my phone, and it read 8am on the dot. It didn’t register immediately, but as I noted that I had like 11 texts, a Facebook messenger notification, three Facebook notifications, two WordPress notifications, a couple emails . . . it dawned on me. I had forty five minutes until I needed to leave for work.
Somehow I pulled it off, but oversleeping completely throws my whole life off kilter. I was sleepy still when I pulled into work, miraculously on time.
“Only nine hours and then it’s vacation time.” I told myself as I threw my phone in my purse and grabbed my coffee.
This issue and that issue navigated through, my to-do list complete, my email cleared, my filing done, things ordered, a informative letter for my co-workers and an email to Sophia containing everything she may need to run my property for five days. . . I mean, two of those days are the weekend. I probably over prepared. They all probably think I’m overthinking this time off. I take my job seriously though, and the more informed they are, the less I get contacted.
I’ve been at the property for just shy of two years, with the company for just shy of four years, and I’ve never turned off my email notifications. I’ve never instructed my co-workers to only contact me in the event of an emergency. I mean, when I went to Ink last year I did tell them that I would have limited phone access, but I still answered their texts and kept an eye on my emails.
I’m a little nervous, truth be told. I know Sophia will take care of things though. I have faith that the property will still be there on Tuesday when I return.
For the time being though. . .
At 559pm, after turning off my email notifications and rolling my phone over to Sophia’s office, I punched out for five whole fucking beautiful days.
I drove off the property and headed home, storm clouds at my back. I knew we were in for a big one, but was hoping I could dodge it. I picked up Chase and took him out to his dads – On our way out we did encounter a short burst of rain, while the sun was shining. “Little Chaser! Try and find a rainbow!” And we both searched for one. I then made a stop at Sophia’s for a celebratory beer and some chit chatting. We discussed my plans for my time off, and her next yard work project.
And now I’m home, Chevelle playing, Rosalyn in front of me. Its still damp from the storm we had while I was gone outside on my patio, so I’m in my room, the AC chilly on my skin, every light on in my bedroom. I am in process of working on another draft that I hope to finish tonight. Initially I was going to finish that and then attack the quotes post, but this one spoke to me pretty strongly, so I thought I should get it out of the way. That draft has been sitting there for a year. What’s a few more minutes?
“Transform stamen on stamen, fill your interior rose.” – Rainer Maria Rilke
This is so fucking important, guys.
Keep growing. But grow into the person you want to be, and make sure that the things you are doing feed your soul.
It’s really as simple as that.
For so long I filled my life with the things other people wanted me to do, I made myself into the person other people wanted me to be. . .
I don’t like constantly partying, constantly being around people. I prefer my solitude, I prefer listening to my music at obnoxious levels, I like to just chill in comfy clothes with a book, I don’t like TV very much, I like to dig my hands into the dirt and not worry about breaking a stupid nail, or running around barefoot to water my plants and letting my feet get stained with the earth . . . I love being front row at a concert and to hell with my hearing, I love sunshine, sometimes I love to be asleep at 10pm and sometimes I like to be awake until 2am, sometimes I’m cool getting up at 6am and others I don’t face the world until 10am. Sometimes I like to be home with my kids and sometimes I crave a good, long drive. Today I wasn’t a fan of my longer hair and missed my short hair because the humidity wreaked havoc on it. Yesterday I was in love with my hair though. Sometimes I like it this inky black color it is now, freshly dyed, and sometimes I like a more natural look. Sometimes I like my make up dark, others I don’t want to bother with the hassle of applying it. I love my tattoos, I want more. Sometimes I’m the hardcore rocker chick, horns raised . . . and others I’m the earth bound hippie chick, peace sign in the air. I don’t like answering to people. I don’t like having to explain myself to people. I don’t like being the same every day, predictable, complacent. . . Right now I’m really digging this whole music and writing bit I got going. I used to do this when I was sixteen, but instead of sleek ass Rosalyn I had a composition book and a pen. I’d sit in my room, on the floor, my boombox playing whatever new rock music I had acquired from my brother or friends – Staind, Evanescence, Creed, Papa Roach, Disturbed, Incubus. . . not much has changed there – and just write. I get lost in words, and I didn’t know how much I’ve missed this.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s another side to me that is a little less . . . shall we say reclusive? Independent, maybe? I don’t know that side of me, that other woman, very well. So I can’t necessarily come up with a good descriptive word for her. She and I have only had some brief encounters. I like her, too. If circumstances are right, I’ll sit down and watch some TV, I don’t mind sharing my time with someone else. I need to find a balance, though. Because I think that the biggest part of me is this independent, slightly reclusive, overly active person. There’s nothing wrong with that, there’s nothing wrong with having different parts of your personality. I like that other side of me, she’s a little less intense, way more laid back. . . but I thrive and go further towards my dreams with this me I’m most familiar with. This kind of intense dreamer who lives for herself and her kids. I know her well, and I like her immensely.
I let the words take over and got a little lost there for a second. My point is that you have to feed your soul. You have to do what makes you happy. The point in the above rambling is that I think I would be happiest filling the needs of both of the women I described, both sides of my personality. I often have a feeling that I’m missing something, and I know it’s likely the more chill version of me, it’s the side of life that I’m not very familiar with.
All in due time.
Right now I’m concentrating on this me that is striving towards goals, that’s making shit happen. I can be more laid back and chill once shit is situated where it’s supposed to be.
So right now I’m taking care of my kids, and my gardens. I’m feeding this writing itch that is insatiable at the moment. I’m listening to my music as much as I can, driving places, hanging with friends when the feeling to do so is there, and staying home when it’s not. I’m going and doing and being.
I feed my soul with these things. I am slowly addressing past hurts, dealing with current stresses, and taking it day by day.
I’m building myself up. In feeding my soul I am fixing myself. I’m not as broken as I once was, but there’s some hurts that need healing still. And it indeed is a transformation. Someday I’ll be able to be both women – intense and laid back, able to stop pushing and relax. For now I have to push, and I have to push hard so I can get to where I want to be. Ultimately, the place I want to be and the woman I want to be will be able to fill both roles – intense and chill.
But first, I need to build. I need to grow. I need to fill my interior rose, and I can’t let anyone else do it for me. I’m doing this for me and the future me. No one else.