I feel like I am always chasing my tail and never really fitting in anywhere…
When I was in NA on the Gold Coast I never really felt like I fit in. Then here I am in Maleny and still don’t really feel like I fit in. And when I was at school I never really felt like I fit in. And then when I lived in Brisbane I never really felt like I fit in anywhere, except maybe for a few years while I was in the rave scene, but perhaps I am fooling myself and really having a drug addiction and hanging out with other people that have a drug addiction doesn’t really count for fitting in. Then when I was in my family of origin (when I was a kid) I didn’t really feel like I fit in at the time, but now I feel like I fit there now, but that might be because I don’t see them much and when I do I am a novelty of sorts because I live so far away that they don’t see me that often.
I did feel like I fit in when I was with my band ‘The Forky Road’ in Brisbane, and it was clear that I fit because we wrote some of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard. (But then again, I am biased because I am the one that wrote them.) And am I just having rose coloured memories of those days? It was hard work keeping the band inspired and nagging them to come to jams every week. But they loved it, when they were there, as did I. We had some good laughs. Oh, I miss those days of creating with like-minded people. I could be as much of a dick as I wanted and sing out all my feelings in whatever way shape or form I wanted. Hip hop, bluesy, jazzy, folky, operatic at times… whatever it called for, I’d empty the well of emotion at least once a week, maybe twice if we had a gig coming up…
Is this a phase? Is this me ‘having a moment’? I’m not sure. I guess it is. Its likely that in a week I’ll be looking back at this blog and wondering why I was so honest, why I shared my heart so openly and wondering who read it, and are they thinking I’m a dick because of my realness. Then I will remind myself that realness is the only way to go because that’s me. Real. Ms Real. I should change my name by depol. Or whatever it is. Is it de-poll? I’m not sure. I’ve heard people talk about it.
Anyway, I’ve been listening to this ‘best of’ Sting album all night and its now on its third or fourth round. Perhaps its time to change the music… Perhaps that’s a metaphor for my thoughts. Maybe I should change the music of my thoughts. And yes, that’s definitely true, but I’ve been trying to do that for ages and haven’t managed to do so. I’ve tried writing it out and perhaps it is helping a little. I’ve written thousands of words over the last few days in my attempt to write this shit out. I was also painting before and that felt good. Its a slow process I suppose, this coming to where I am going. Its one step at a time, one day at a time, one moment at a time on this road to being.
Or is it? I’ve read enough Buddhist teachings and other worldly teachings that simply state that when we let go of grasping we are actually there, already. Oh, it seems so hard until it doesn’t. When it stops seeming hard, it suddenly starts feeling so easy… Funny that.
What happened to the thrill of chase? I used to love that. But now, it just doesn’t seem so thrilling anymore… I just want to be there. Already.