scrambled: feeling, being… writing

it was some two weeks ago when I noticed there are almost 100 published posts in my ( 🙂 this) blog.

now there are 104 published and 28 in drafts.

 

when I start this blog I was thinking “I have nothing to put here”…

I remember Ronen encouraging me to have a personal blog. first I rejected the idea, considering I have nothing to write “for the world”. then, when I realized I will do it for me, I came at peace, embracing the idea.

 

anyway, in many if my posts there are more things that I encounter, I quote, I feel / see / hear.

yes, these are all about me also, about things rippling inside…

 

but there is much more inside me… things what I would like to place them outside my mind (is this blog a creation of the mind? what is mind? is it outside? am I separated? where do I end?…) many times.

 

words don’t come easy for me. not in writing, not in speaking out.

maybe because clarity is not in place?… sometimes I know that is the case, sometimes words are not enough.

 

I many times look at my inner world, noticing feelings, emotions, sensations, experiences, perspectives. I many times look at them with the eye of the observer, of the impartial surgeon, of the writer… I many other times I am those…

many times imagining myself writing about it, in terms of placing them also outside of my mind, maybe to have a different perspective.

 

I sometimes notice myself I would like the world to see me, to feel me, to notice me… out of the need to be seen, acknowledged, loved.

I know the world is busy with their own… inner worlds.

 

so rarely I can collect my own feelings, thoughts, expressions… emotions… into words.

 

I wanna write about hurting, depression, circles, tribes….

about love and lack of it, mom, birthing, Pearl, Daniel, Ronen, Andreea & Mihaela, Sweety, Luci, Annelieke, Sunni, Andreea…

about being seen, not (good) enough, emptiness, about tears, warm healing tears…

about practice which is calling me and I look at it not following, knowing my mind is so dispersed…

about knowing that no one can do the inner work for me… and yet calling for a hand from outside…

about loneliness, impermanent states which seems eternal, unclarity and how this covers the sky of my being and ripples into other skies…

about being frozen…

about the softness or lack of it, for all these…

 

please… please, see me, embrace me sometimes… even if I don’t write, speak… my mind calls…

my heart and soul is yearning for belonging to the tribe, to the village.

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