Beat

It is interesting to me that even now I struggle to figure out what I want without borrowing the words and thoughts of others. Inspiration comes from the world, of course. But, I've listened too hard for too long. The whispers of what people need and want are screams to me. Dictations of what I should be doing vs. mere suggestions. The silence is now deafening and I'm scrambling.

to be calm again and listen is difficult. to think is hard. at what point did I stop listening? I remember the day, the moment that I stopped listening. I had been living in San Rafael in an attic apartment for only about a month. It was my first apartment on my own and I struggled to find friends and any meaning in what to do next. I had finally moved out of the house boat I'd lived with my mom on. My heart was healing but still broken from a break up. I used to go home every night after work. Writing, reading, listening to music. I had no TV at the time. But I always came home because I felt like I needed to be home. Then one day I didn't. I went to the mall instead. I came home 2-3 hours later than normal. He had called. He wanted me to come home. He had reserved a ticket for me. I still wanted to go but it was too late. And in a moment the path of my life changed.

I will never say that the path between that moment and almost 13 years later was a mistake. It wasn't. I've learned, grown and changed a lot in the years that have passed. I have had some amazing, beautiful wonderful moments. I met my husband and regardless of the future, I am grateful for him helping me become this person. I wasn't this person years ago. I know that I needed to live without listening to my voice because I always took it for granted.  I thought that it was a foolish notion to listen to the beat of your own drummer. I stupid stupid saying that people throw around that means nothing in the real world. That is what I thought.

But I know now that in the years that followed that moment I stepped too far away from myself.  And in doing that I no longer listened to my voice, the whispered hush voice of my inner self. There were moments when the hush voice rose to a thundering cloud. Some changes were made but it was never enough. By that point I had stepped too far off the path. I was knee deep in listening to the world around me and I couldn't stop enough to get it back.

So here I am now. I cleared the path. Sprayed the weed killer. Captured the flowers. And I'm trying to quiet myself enough to learn how to listen again. Indeed I think we are meant to dance to the beat of our own drummer. It's not just a platitude or saying, for some people it is the truth. But then I think too much and I forget to breathe. I'm getting it all wrong. I've forgotten. I'm fucked.

No No No I'm not. I forget for a moment, perhaps two. Maybe I even need to nap to regain my sanity. But then I remember and I quiet enough to hear the soft whisper ...... this moment, this confusion, this searching, this is exactly where you need to be.