Letting go of control…the idea that I have any semblance of control at all over my fate…accepting whatever “is” and letting go of all the rest…
I think it was Neko Case who once said Nature is a control freak. I think it’s funny when we personify nature like that. Like, you’d think she would have called humans the control freaks—we’re the ones who have taken great pains to separate ourselves from our environment. In class, we’ve been talking about myths as a form of separating nature from civilization, highlighting the importance of conforming to a certain set of social standards and “reforming” or “taming” our wild nature.
We discussed the opposition of intuition versus intellect as well, and how that mirrors the nature/civilization dichotomy. For some reason, in many myths, these two opposing forces are often personified in the body of a woman.
I have no idea why I was born a woman. I was very tomboyish growing up, and currently work a blue collar job. I am attracted to both sexes. I like playing in the dirt. These statements are built on stereotypes, but there you go…the human form is a strange vessel.
Identities blow in and out of me as I’m walking down the street, as I’m interacting with strangers, as I’m driving down the road. Something about me is hollow, or “leaks”. I’m drafty? I don’t know what it means; it’s all very confusing.
I’m exhausted. It was a strange day. I missed another opportunity to take a spiritual leap today, but as a poet once said, there’s always another spot…will endeavor to keep my head up, keep looking forward, keep the faith…