I can’t remember the last time I felt this level of elation. Or exhilaration. I’ve never fallen this hard so quickly. It was love at first sight. But each encounter just keeps taking me to new levels.
Once upon a time I thought I’d be writing these words about a man…
But I’m not.
For once in my life I decided to say “f” it… I don’t care anymore. I’m doing something for me, regardless of how strange it seems.
So I joined a jiujitsu class. (Yes, I somewhat have a tendency to jump in the deep end 🤪 lol).
For months I’ve been pondering on what kind of hobby might be something I’d enjoy. Knitting? Crocheting? Painting? Photography? Hiking? Dancing?
All of these things appealed, but they didn’t ignite any passion. I like to move! And I’ve always somewhat skated the outskirts of eastern philosophy, however, never delved in. As an athlete in a past life, I’ve always loved sports. And strangely, perhaps from my upbringing? (my father taught us self-defence techniques all throughout childhood), always held a fascination with fighting. The violence, to a small degree, but much much more… the discipline required. The time put in to master yourself. The wholeness that is required. Not solely physical. Mental. Spiritual. The completeness has always held a fascination for me. The freedom to seek “perfection” (those moments when everything just comes together). The obvious internal stillness that comes from training for years to achieve mind-body connection. Martial arts, to me, is like the philosophy of life put into practice. A beautiful dance. Which encompasses the reality that beauty and violence coexist quite naturally. Much like nature.
I’m rambling because I am in love. Quite unexpectedly. I feel like Snow White, kissed back to life after laying dormant for so long, waiting to find something that would bring me back to life. Last time I tried using a person for that. It didn’t work. Surprise surprise. Obviously I didn’t realise that’s what I was doing at the time, but I realised not long ago that it was time to stop hoping someone else would do this for me. And thank goodness. I didn’t know that the joy is in the journey. Perhaps that’s what age teaches us.
As someone who was always so results driven, I have always been terrified or dismissive of the steps required to get somewhere. Fear of failure, fear of feeling stupid, fear of judgement, fear of expectation, fear fear fear. It always kept me trapped. It kept me small. Scared of being who I am. And scared of showing that to others. I grew up in an environment that was an emotional war zone, so I learned very early to keep everything close so as to not have it used as ammunition against me. Ironically my brother popped up last night into my message box to remind me of our wonderful family pattern. Only this time I decided I wasn’t going to let him take this from me. No one will. It is mine and mine alone. If I continue or not will be my decision… not because others decide for me, using shame or belittlement or a desire to keep me trapped in how they think I should be. Finally I am standing up for myself. And I feel strong 😊
I always knew, deep down, love would set me free. I just didn’t realise it would be my own love.
to be continued…
