I am mad.
Oh, the good kind.
I know, I know, I know…
Breathe into the hurt, dark places — check.
Sit in the gentle expansion of my heart — check.
Let my heart tell me where it wants to go…
and for today…
Fuck that, I’m mad.
The good kind. My heart is mad.
I am mad that somewhere along the way, I let society start to define me. I am mad I took slow, vague steps into the mundane. I am mad mommy culture has squeezed into my brain ever so sneakily. I am mad at politics for becoming slightly more refined than Jersey Shore. I am mad it took me so long to heal.
But the mad is the good kind.
There is a reason I resonate with words like ‘rebellion’ and ‘revolution’. It means I have the capacity to at least SEE that I have fallen asleep at the wheel of my life and I am not going to sit quietly any longer.
I do not need breath right now. I do not need gentle. I need an ass-kicking.
Shifts into softness will always create shifts in consciousness.
Love wins. Always.
The bill of goods we have been sold on who to be and what to care for. We all get led down the paths of our own hurts into the bleak submission of appropriate.
I am mad. At me. At you. At the world.
Not the ‘boomerang kind of shit’ mad that comes back to beat me up. Not any kind of ‘come out swinging to hurt someone’ mad. Not the mad that would wound you or me or the world.
The mad that is life-changing, rut-jumping, mountain-moving, pattern-busting joy mad. Crazy mad. Crazy enough to just do it.
Bigger, faster, harder than I did yesterday.
More Creative Madness:
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