Do you ever have that feeling…

The one where something at your very core dances wildly… calling your attention to what’s possible— where nothing is certain, everything is available, and it’s asking you to look, and claim it as your own?

This feeling dances in me, now. And, as I turn to look— it feels brave.

Like, I might literally die if I look.

Like when I was a kid, and I simply KNEW there was something under my bed. There never was, of course. But whenever I could conjure the courage to look, I felt both braver and more at ease… able to slip into a satisfied slumber after what felt like ages of deliberating.

I feel this, too, at this moment. By looking and in claiming what’s possible as my own, I’m choosing a new definition of safety and comfort. I create a sense of safety for myself, and from there stems growth, and challenge, and progress. Suddenly, safety isn’t the goal. Experience is. Thriving is.

I’m so grateful for this new definition, because it wasn’t always this way. 

For most of my life so far, safety has meant following the prescribed route in life. It meant falling in line, being obedient, staying quiet, small, and convenient— unless I had a prescribed message to share when the authorities chose me to shine.

My truth was only true if it matched the prescribed ideal. If you like the idea of thriving, I don’t recommend this way of living. 

Over the last ~7 years or so, I’ve been navigating an intense uphill climb out of deep-seated shame, fear, unworthiness, self-distrust, and at moments a profound self-hatred that confirmed all of the reasons why the love I sought was non-existent, despite doing and being everything I could to feel that love, and being surrounded by people who treated me lovingly.

They certainly loved me, or at least the idea of me. But, I wanted them to see me AND love me, regardless of what they saw. I spent every waking hour hustling for the chance to be seen— achieving, perfecting, and giving to the point of exhaustion. All this did was reinforce the message of never-enoughness as I compared myself against the prescribed ideal. This was hell, when everyone around me insisted this was the way to heaven.

All of this to say… that as I turn to look and claim and join in with the Wild dancing at my core, I feel more true, more myself than ever before. 

And, I see precisely why others couldn’t see me: I couldn’t see myself. I refused to. That same reflex that denied the love that I am, was incapable of receiving others' love as well.

I built a wall around the Wild dancing, so that I could feel safe, loved, and accepted. The irony that I see so clearly now is that the Wild dancing is a celebration of existence, of love, and innate acceptance… an unselfconsciousness that is free to share, to love, to celebrate, and to BE. We all have this. And, I believe it’s an ongoing directive at each of our cores to continue to open to it and explore it more fully.

This place— inherent with the fact of our existence; naked and undecorated by accomplishment, recognition, power, perfection, or inflated identity— is the sacred temple where our greatest contributions in life are carried out. 

It’s where hurt, heartbreak, despair, and pain are mended, alchemized, and integrated to create wholeness, ease, contentment, beauty, and joy— The seeds of connecting with others in our fullest truth and integrity… 

The place where we live and exist as the beat, the melody, the music, that the Wild dances to, so purely, like a child.

And, a pointer to the Wild dancing at others' core, too.

Photo by Roozbeh Badizadegan on Unsplash

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