My neighbor and I have coffee. Together, but on our separate porches. An introvert's dream. Today, it is a foggy, misty morning. He coughs, I sip. His keys jangle as he sits in his chair while he simultaneously shuffles his feet, his shoes squeaking on the wet wood. And, I read about ancient cave paintings in Paris writing feverishly in the margins about human existence.
We do this dance. He and I. Every. Day. Yet, we do not speak. Does he notice me? As Walt Whitman once wondered in my favorite poem "To You," does he "desire to speak to me," ? Do I, too, make noises that I am unaware of that become apart of his morning song?
It's a curious concept. Neighbors. It implies a familiarity, a kinship, yet we have never spoken a single word. But, we have our coffee every morning. Maybe that silence is in itself kinship.
People will perceive you through their own lense always. For years, I killed myself trying to project "perfectness" on social media, in my personal relationships, through private messages, etc. It was exhausting. And I still find myself doing it sometimes.
But, life isn't perfect. Nor am I. Or my family for that matter. When, the eyes of others are opened to the raw reality of my messy life, or the messiness of human existence, it can be disorienting. Because, we have become a surface level society. We have perfectly curated self images that are nothing like our real selves. Or, at least, I have for as long as I can remember.
When confronted with my reality, and not the mask, people have become so disoriented. Stating things like:
"Why did you change?"
"Are you okay?"
"I'll talk to you when things calm down."
This messiness is jarring, ugly, and completely necessary. But, it makes others uncomfortable. Why? After all, we are not allowed to be messy. We are supposed to be perfectly aesthetically pleasing squares on Instagram.
But, that's not HUMAN. And I'm not perfect-- I never was. No one is. I would rather be messy, real, or honest than a projection of false perfection. Because, perfection doesn't exist. And when I fake it, I don't exist either. I want to be loud and messy if that's what it takes to get back to who I once was when I still liked being me.
So, find your people. The ones who can sit with the uncomfortable feelings. The ugly days or weeks. The ones who don't judge your imperfectness, but rather see it as a rally cry for help. Those who uplift you and try. They won't always be able to. But, maybe you can help them when they are in the thick of their own mess.
Somewhere along the way, humanity became so self engrossed that we forgot the basic foundation of existing. Real, human connection. Friends and mess go hand in hand. Check in. Check in. Check in. We all exist in this vast messy world for such a short time. We might as well be kind and understanding while we are here.
Remember, you can't be everything to everyone. Especially if you ignore your own mess.
I'll leave you with a song: https://youtu.be/vymKbLGKFUM
I've been called the following in the past few weeks:
"self centered"
"an ass"
"narcissist"
"manic"
"lazy"
"not the same."
Though these words hurt, in fact, they sting like wasps in my brain over and over, I know they are true. At least, somewhat. But I don't want to be THAT person. Or even THIS person. I WANT to be balanced. Someone who helps. Who is happy. Who is present.
I want to be someone who maintains healthy relationships with clearly established boundaries and good communication. Communication free of name calling, festered feelings, and judgment.
I want to be the person who fondly remembers all of her favorite songs without ruminating in the past. I don't want to make camp in the sadness and live there anymore. I want to know when to put the campfire out, pack up, leave my surroundings better than I found them, and go home.
I want be in the present moment. I want to actively listen. And I want to SHOW that I am by engaging in conversations with my full attention. I want to ask the right questions to keep a conversation flowing. Or know when a conversation has reached it's end. And I don't know how to do that--yet.
But, hopefully, I will get there one day. It won't happen alone. I am so grateful for the support I have been given in the past, present, and future. It means more to me than words could ever express. And I know, I spiral, and it is exhausting, and I am so sorry for draining my loved ones.
Don't forget. Please, don't forget to "gas up all of your homies" like the band CLIFFDIVER says. They have their own shit too. And they are trying THEIR BEST. We all are trying our hardest to survive, grow, and be content in a world that is frankly, royally fucked. And, I wouldn't have it any other way. Because, there will be better days. I know that for sure.
I'll leave you with this song: https://youtu.be/gNF_ZUAxtmA
My neighbor and I have coffee. Together, but on our separate porches. An introvert's dream. Today, it is a foggy, misty morning. He coughs, I sip. His keys jangle as he sits in his chair while he simultaneously shuffles his feet, his shoes squeaking on the wet wood. And, I read about ancient cave paintings in Paris writing feverishly in the margins about human existence. 
