I Write For Me

Sitting here, reflecting on why I feel so muddled, so overwhelmed. So many balls being jugged up in the air..why? Did I not just spend a month dumping a house full of possessions? Did I not just take a leap towards my dreams?! Then what is this confusion I feel, this exhaustion? Like I just want to go sit at a warm sunny beach…alone…for week.

I have spent years now understanding and applying the laws of awareness and mindfulness. Aligning with abundance and clarity comes from being present.. so ..what do I feel right now?

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..like I’m so close and maybe I don’t deserve it? No. Like I’m still linked up to the old timeline? Well, that’s kind of true. I still have things in my old house, including a cat. I have lingered on cutting that chord. Just a few days ago I was there with the kids having a fun time with friends. I did nothing in the way of clearing the last few things, the kids and I just left a bigger mess actually. Just a few hours of work still there being put off. And Max, he is still there. I still have no clue what we are going to do about re-homing that cat.

Off i go.. not present. Back to now.

Got my laptop back after a little while apart and all I wanted to do was sit and write with it. It didn’t even matter what. So, here I am. Writing, listening to my fingers race across the keyboard, joint dangling from my mouth like a cigarette. A ‘Happiness Frequency Binaural Beats’ YouTube video on, my crystal ball on my lap. This feels like home. This is what makes me feel like me.

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Just before I rolled and sat here I was thinking when I become a published author, it will have to start somewhere. So this thought led to a thought that led to a thought.. that I should just write a book to myself. Nothing for anyone but me to read and reflect. Then as I started to type this, I realized anything I share in writing IS my writing.. to which leads me to my journals. Those already ARE me writing to my self. My cherished connection to self and higher energies through writing. Even this right here, this reflection keyed out is ultimately no different. Me, just writing to myself, so many thoughts always spilling out of my head, my physical body can never keep up.

To put pressure on myself to write in a fashion or timeline that is expected from others stops right here. No more entertaining that thought. Setting such standards for myself is not truly me. Its a programming since childhood to please . No , my writing has always been just for me and the authenticity to share is also my nature. That’s where so much of my magick flows freely and already I feel less tired and more present. Getting out any seemingly mundane thoughts IS what I need to continue doing, for me. The feeling of release is medicinal.

So I continue. The healing path is windy and filled with self reflection. I am always adjusting my sails and reminding myself how far I have come. This is what I signed up for and this is what I must experience. The knowing that I get through it perfectly is enough to keep me stumbling along like a happy, curious, wide eyed kid in a forest! Well..at least I would be happy, curious and wide eyed kid in a forest. with a creek running in the background. I can hear it right now. I can see the sun rays flicker across the shadowy forest floor. I may be starting my travels with beach and dryness, but I will expand. I see places in my head and I will be led to them.  Off my head goes again. . . la la laaaaaa!

Evi Paris

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