simple joys

I’m not even sure what this is going to be about. I’m just here. Writing. And practicing. Sometimes we just start by naming those mundane thoughts and allowing them to release. They’re like the cork in a bottle… until we release them, nothing else can come out. This is the practice, this is where the magic begins… in beginning. And every day, we begin. Every moment, we begin. Every breath, we begin. Writing for me, for myself, and not for any other reason but to enjoy the joy of writing, is the reason why I’m here. And I just happen to be making this a visible process, by committing to placing this out into the world, for others to witness.

It is a commitment. By saying that I’m going to show up. And showing up.

The witnessing is powerful for myself. And because of that, it is powerful for others. I’m showing up with truth and an authenticity that inspires more truth and authenticity. That is why, and what art is. Art is a personal truth.

Maybe I don’t need to imagine inspiring anyone today. Today was hard. I felt discouraged. I’m in the messy middle. The messy middle of motherhood. The messy middle of my business. The messy middle of opening up again in a relationship. The messy middle of redefining my interests. The messy middle of redefining how I want to exist in the world, and how I would like to identify myself. The messy middle of the messy middle of life. 41.

And that’s enough to admit. That’s enough to notice. That’s enough to be enough.

This is what it looks like when we capture our stream of consciousness. When we allow truth to emerge. When we allow ourselves to witness the mess.

There may not be any profound “thing” or takeaway. There may not be a specific lesson. We may not have written a life-changing speech or piece of writing that changes anyone, or anything. But in the process of writing, we show ourselves the profundity of life’s simple actions, that allow us to be more of ourselves. In the process of expressing who we are in these mundane ways, we reveal more of ourselves. We reveal more about what is important. And perhaps, what is important, isn’t anything that profound.

Perhaps what’s important is the simple act of showing up. The simple act of presence. And listening. And witnessing. Experiencing life. Experiencing ourselves. Experiencing the moment.

That is what I keep returning to when I spin off into the fears of life. If I can just come back here and experience the simple joy of writing for the sake of writing… creating for the sake of creating… being myself for the sake of being myself… that is where I experience the joy of life.

There is no profound ending to this here… this is all for today. Just be here. Just show up. You deserve that simple joy.