opt out of the game

the matrix is real. meaning, much of what we experience is unreal. how do we contend with this in a physical reality?

i have more to say about this, and a lot of things, really. but the timing of when i feel called to share is everything— and i don’t feel like breaking down my insights and inner workings very often. i know folks find it helpful and after i’ve written something out, i find it rewarding for myself as well. but what about my personal peace and honoring my flow— even when it’s inconvenient and prohibitive?

yet still, what about wanting all that while also wanting to be seen and to make a living from my ideas and expressions?

ego doesn’t trust the flow, i know that much. ego wants sense. ego wants instant gratification. ego wants proof. reason. promises. guarantees. ego gets uncomfortable and pissed and confused and insecure and questioning everything real fast.

this online realm— where our ideas and we ourselves seemingly cease to exist unless we publish them— creates a lot of tension, discord, and dissonance within me. sometimes i feel like the internet wants me sucked dry for all i have to give and i’ll just lie there lifeless getting stepped over while the world continues to spin on.

a very reasonable possibility, if i allow my ego to drive and don’t check my priorities.

some thoughts on balance, tending to my truth, and ultimately— opting out of the game, on all levels. <3

not even a minute

you are allowed to slow down. if you find it hard to give yourself an empty minute for your mind to rest— hi, welcome to my life of late.

it’s been going on for months, if not the last couple years to a notably intense degree. i’ve known for equally long that a lot of it is because i’m afraid to face myself; the unresolved things going on deeper within me that with even minimal examination, would tell me that it’s time to break and transform a lot of long held habits, beliefs, and paradigms for myself. i haven’t felt ready and so i’ve allowed myself grace.

but there comes a time that the ‘giving yourself grace and space’ thing endures on a bit too long and becomes an avoidant, self-defeating story you’ve begun to tell yourself. you are playing yourself. how you not gonna be who you’re meant to be? who— under all that bullshit conditioning— is what you really are and always were? quit it, seher.

this “go go go” that doesn’t allow you the spaciousness of a single minute, actually comprises a lot of going nowhere; furiously searching the internet, your instagram feed, the analytical labyrinths of your mind, the drama inside of a netflix binge for hours and hours and hours and hours— because maybe there’s an answer to what you’re searching for there.

anywhere but the quiet space inside my body and intuition. because it knows the actual truth. and we don’t want that. that’s work.

so we feast on what’s unreal and then blame our empty stomachs on air.

the illusion of the possibility that we might have actually been able to hold it was so comforting that we welcome excitedly, again and again, the delusion of a productive time pass.

as i continue to stumble over myself a la the monopoly that the everything of nothingness has on my time, i savor that accidental minute when i’m given some pause. that space of time where i’m actually able to feel myself here.

in that sliver is a boundless well of joy, gratitude, and miraculous possibility.

may we all find the sweet quiet moments in ourselves and in our lives more often.

<3