it’s weird having the past brought up by a good friend, not remembering what they do, because you had blocked it out from shame. to pretend in the moment that it’s no big deal, even laugh about it, but inside, feel shocked and embarrassed. oh the good ole bad ole days. the days when i was acting from two different places, conscious and unconscious. the days when i was still living in denial of my shadow. would not go back if you paid me. makes me realize how each day i grow happier, more at peace, more in control and refined. this is a prize. i sometimes forget. when i look back on my life, there’s a ton of regret. it’s like, i was born running away. but not anymore. today i stay. the sky is blue this morning, after thunder and lightning through the early morning. much like my own emotions as of late. the buildings have been washed by the storm. my mind feels washed too. no longer spinning inside confusion about what to do. not even searching for what i don’t have. this is what surrender feels like. to be this still inside. wishing for it to last. it’s not the kind of stillness that comes from meditation. it’s the kind that comes from humility, i guess. hard to explain. this blog feels choppy. the words aren’t pouring out. i am not into it. maybe there’s a gap i fell into. a gap between two cliffs. on one cliff, the idealist spouts higher truth. and on the the other cliff, a sensitive heart wonders if she’ll even experience what is good enough. how easy it is to talk ideals and truth, yet how hard it is to put ideals into practice. three friends talked all night about love, sex, relationships. we talked about the past, poly, partners. we talked about ideas and brought up experiences. to be honest, i am worn out, and…humbled. i can’t explain it. i just want to feel natural mutual romantic intimacy without the shadow creating fantasies, without denial creating personas and projections…basically, without the bullshit. tired of the politics. tired of wounds. tired of the complexity. maybe i am tired of myself. the end.