Scribbles from a legal pad

I love the questioning. The wonder. The opposite of being an expert.

I want to wake up each day & be a little more unhinged than the last... a little more free than the last.

What is the antithesis of truth? I want to gorge myself on whatever that is.

I want the wanting. The yearning. I want it all.

Let me touch the tender edges of truth and then crumple it up into a ball and burn it.

Is it not fun to play devil’s advocate?

To burn all of the boxes you unknowingly put yourself in?

I’m in a prison of my own making, locked in a cell and I can’t seem to figure out where I hid the key.

What if to be alive is to be aware of one’s own contradictions and yet revel in it?

I wrote this a few months ago.

Sitting on my bathroom floor, scribbling on one of those yellow legal pads (oddly enough, they’re my favorite thing to write on).

I wasn’t going to share it at all… but I changed my mind.

I think we should all change our minds a little more.

It feels scary to share things that are messy. Unpolished.

When putting anything online, I feel this pressure to make things, well, presentable.

To have a neat and tidy takeaway. A point.

As I’ve been stepping away from the (entirely self-inflicted) pressure of labeling myself as some sort of educator or expert, I’ve softened into a pretty radical okayness with stepping outside of boxes and labels altogether.

Aren’t we so much more complex than that?

We love to categorize and judge and label and accuse. But in the end, we are all just trying to understand ourselves and the world around us.

Isn’t it interesting how boxes and labels become weapons that others use against us? Weapons we use against ourselves?

And, I beg you - please let yourself feel the delicious pleasure of changing your mind. Of questioning everything. Of being a little more messy and unserious in your pursuit of truth, which we are all inherently on.

Sending love,

Abigail