Practicing worthiness

Last week, I visited the library to do some work. I had been unsettled all day, but taking the time to feel what’s in my heart was not a very “productive” use of my time. I sat down in my favorite spot. Finalized an art piece I had been working on for days, and posted it on the socials.

Crickets…(subjectively)

I should be used to this odd dynamic by now. I am aware that it’s all internal, but boy is it a supreme trigger. Over the past few years, my identity has intertwined with my art, and my worth has been tied to figures and numbers.

Dangerous, I know. But we do this with all sorts of things. Relationships, careers, just… something out there, whatever it may be. If I had not been a full-time artist, my trigger would’ve been different. I know it.

Next thing I knew, tears were streaming down my face.

one tear

two tear

three

I picked up my things and headed out the door. A little embarrassed. I hadn't been there long, and I certainly didn't do any of the “things” I was supposed to do.

I cried in my car all the way back home. Once I got home, I cried in my room. I opened a window and cried to the wind. I called my sister and cried some more…

and it felt

so

damn

good!

Good bad, you know?

Just satisfying.

I love crying; I miss it most of the time.

The tears told me a story. They showed me a blind spot.

Where I was disconnected from my body, my heart.

Of course, I was feeling “unworthy”; the thing that gave me inherent worth (my life) wasn’t deemed valuable in that moment. All that mattered was what i “did” with it.

Shit!

Has it taken me years of working on myself to get to this exact spot? Where I can see the disconnection without looking away?

to feeeeeel
          into my body
           into the layers
beneath the skin
           into my heart
to ride the waves
          of red and gold
in this moment..
          i am worthy
you are worthy
we're alive goddamit
           and that’s enough!