Some of the best moments of my life were those times where I was curled up in a ball asking God why, the moments where life made no sense and I wasn’t sure if I could keep doing it, the moments that shattered my Soul.
Ahh the good ol’ days…
I have an analogy for you today and I’ve decided to use chocolate because…it’s fucking chocolate.
We are all KINDER EGGS
Mind blown, right?
You are likely saying, “did she take her meds today”? (no not yet) but by the end of this post you’re going to think I’m freaking brilliant or be highly amused.
I think we are all born into this world pretty awesome and knowing what we want and then – well it seems like everyone’s life is a drama series. Maybe the rich get Real Housewives and the poor get Maury but we are all battling someone, something or society and that fucks us up. Major.
So early on we protect our Soul, our sensitive self, with a layer of protection.
Milk chocolatey protection to be exact, (here comes the analogy train)
We have this amazing toy (Soul/sense of self/passion, call it what you will) hidden under all this chocolate (false self) and we have no idea what the treat in there looks like. We all want it, we crave it and know there is something there but damned that chocolate gets in the way, (and let’s be honest, it’s not even good chocolate, nasty ass milky sugar is all it is).
How do we get inside and reveal the prize?
We need to break the shell into a million little pieces.
We take something that looks so smooth and shiny and lovely and turn it into something ugly and broken in order to get to the better part inside…
Pain does this, pain washes away all barriers, all fears, and allows you to catch glimpses of the core of who you really are.
I have been through a boatload of strife, misery, trauma …all around shitty stuff, in my 38 years’ existence, (“Get in line bitch “I’m sure you’re thinking and you’re TOTALLY right) and with every major blow I got closer to my authentic self. The larger the trauma (the deeper the cracks in the chocolatey goodness) the closer I got.
Here’s the trick, you need to look at it as a gift and treat it as such. I decided long ago to look for the lesson in it all and to stop asking why.
No I’m not saying to be happy about the shitty stuff that’s happened but you CANNOT change it, so only a crazy person would try. And yet, our society is nuts because people don’t like to embrace their pain, their raw state.
Well, I opened my toy, it took many god awful horrid things to finally get all of my chocolate off and expose the toy but 3 years ago the last pieces were removed.
“Hooray” you say, “she opened up her toy and found bliss”.
That’s a big fat NO.
What happens when you open those little yellow fuckers’ up? You dump 10 pieces of who knows what in your lap, no idea what it actually is but you know once you put it together it’s gonna be awesome.
3 years ago I was humbled, I was raw and I was a puzzle ready to be put together. All I had was Faith in the process (tbh having to feed 3 kids helped a smidge with my motivation) and strong determination.
These days I have enough pieces together to get an idea of what my toy looks like but there’s still work to do.
That’s where you come in, you’re part of my toy.
Talking to you, lending you my strength, that’s my passion.
Okay, I’m out. This writing stuff is kinda exhausting and now I need to go buy chocolate (or wine…wine pairs well with spilling your Soul onto paper right)?