That’s another post I have to come back to later because I want to read all the comments!

I also have to come back, because I know there is a Something Me somewhere inside, but I just can’t identify it right now. Foggy brain really sucks – and I’m so fed up with it!
Oh boy, the dam burst, lots of tears coming up. Something just connected, I think. Something Me may have something to do with Foggy Brain.

That’s kind of a huge realization. Thanks Havi for facilitating it. Signing off: I’ve got some thinking to do on that one.

Josianes last blog post..Traveling Muffins

This post affected me on a deep level — brought up tears of recognition and sadness for my hippy-dippy beautiful Inner Writer. She wears flow-y skirts and a scarf on her head and she’s passing out daisy chain necklaces and giving kisses to complete strangers. She’s strong, too, speaks her mind and her truth freely and unabashedly. Swears. (A lot.) She loves herself so much, has no fear, only love, allowing, surrender, joy. She flits from thing to thing, and she is loved for this bumble-bee spirit she has.

She and I increasingly play together. But I do have my hang-ups. I’m thankful that she’s wise and her eyes twinkle with humor and gentleness as coaxes me out of the veneer of perfection and distance I can sometimes hide behind.

I have an Inner Artist, too. She’s a bit more haggarded and neglected from lack of attention, but she’s there, too. She’s quirky, with paint-stained jeans and hair with streaks of blue and pink and a messy studio in a loft.

I’m committed to playing with both of these beautiful parts of myself more often.

Thanks for the chance to publicly name that.

P.S. I have always considered you a first-rate writer. And in this post, especially, I love how you so brilliantly share what you discovered — it opened me up to seeing my writer and artist more clearly too.

Shannons last blog post..Poppy Posies: A Week of Flower Wisdom, Day 5

The first quote is something I had written in a “creativity notebook” I kept six years ago when I was on the brink of another Big Move (figurative & identify-shifting). This notebook contains all sorts of goodies that I exactly need right now today!–a gift from my past self, who was a lot wiser than I give her credit for.

And the second quote is from a song on a mix CD that a wonderful old friend gave me last week, a song that happened to start playing just as I was leafing through the creativity notebook.

They’re both about singing what you need to sing to be fully alive:

I admire anybody who has the guts to write anything at all.
- E.B. White

All I could eat was the poisonous apple,
And that’s not a story I was meant to survive.
I was all out of choices, but the woman of voices,
She turned round the corner with music around her–
She gave me the language that keeps me alive.
She said: “I’m so glad that you finally made it here,
With the things you know now, that only time could tell.
Looking back, seeing far, landing right where we are.
And oh, …aren’t we aging well?”
- Dar Williams

The combination of your post and Hiro’s post yesterday totally shifted some HUGE stuff inside me, so I poured it all out into a blog post of my own. I didn’t want to hijack your comment box with such a long response. But I do want you to know that you *directly* inspired this post of mine:

http://tinyurl.com/iamme

I’m honored to share my reactions and realizations with you!

Love,
Jess xo

Jessica Reagan Salzmans last blog post..This is real, this is me. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

An example: when I was in labor with my youngest, it turned out I needed to be in a different delivery room from the one I was in and I needed to be there SOON. I was very far along and trying desperately not to push or even breathe with my diaphragm (difficult after 11 years of choir.)

So, the nurse notices as we round a corner that I have a death grip on the railings of the bed. She says, very sweetly “Oh honey, you should let go of the railing before you get your fingers crushed.” Mmmm, wracked with pain I glared at her and ran through a delightful string of obscenities in my head.

But at the same time that Always Rational part of my mind said (still completely in my head, while the obscenities were running) “Do you want me to have the baby right here in the hall, because that’s what’s going to happen if I let go, dear.”

Always Rational is closely related to my Inner Writer.

Good on you for finding your inner writer, Havi! Way to go!!

Yesterday, while going shopping, I had an immense phycical reaction, my legs turned into jelly and I had to stop walking for a few minutes. After that, it was as I had forgotten how to walk. Very strange.
Later that same day. Again I go out to meet someone and – lo and behold – I’m walking more upright, more confident, more centered than in a long time. Confident Me came out to explore and conquer the world!

And then these comments: I suddenly realized (thanks RondaL), that I had some very powerful experiences in school and at home when I was in fifth or sixth grade. Both totally put a block on expressing my playful and creative self in public. There were no bad intentions from the other party, I realize now, but it still stopped me. Luckily, I found some other ways to express myself, but only in protected environments like on stage or doing stuff for others. But very seldom for myself and its own sake.
How sad. How liberating.
And even though I feel sad and angry about all these lost opportunities, I’m allowed to feel sad and angry about these lost opportunities.

Thanks for this wonderful and strange (and wonderfully strange) community. Part of myself has finally found a family and a home, I feel.

I sat down to see this post in my email inbox just five minutes after watching “Mamma Mia”–watched it with someone else (someone I love dearly) despite my indifference because she wanted to see it, but I was riveted and moved by the time it was 20 minutes in…because one of my secret inner selves is a Dancing Queen. She’s 10 years old and lives in a purple leotard and sparkly legwarmers, and she knows what she loves and does it because it’s fun, and she isn’t scared (yet) of what other people will think. She knows the words to all the good songs and she sings them at the top of her lungs because it feels good, and she makes up spontaneous choreography while waiting in line in the cafeteria because why not make life more interesting?

I have been gradually allowing my inner Dancing Queen to show up in little tiny ways over the last few years–but I have to admit that I am embarrassed by her. She is unprofessional, and silly, and will ruin my chances of being taken seriously. And also–she’s so little and vulnerable and wide-open…I’m afraid she’ll be destroyed. So I keep her in a secret bubble. Sometimes, with people I trust, I talk about her–but I don’t let anyone see her.

I keep thinking of something James Taylor said- to play your music for others, because they need to hear it, and you need them to hear it.

Thank you, Havi, for the heart-touching post, and the bravery of publishing it, and the timing–when my heart was open enough to hear it.