When you’re in “the flow,” it WILL be messy

What if I was meant to get this ghee stain on my brand new pants? What if I was supposed to  take out 2 of the 4 tires from the back of my trunk in order to fit my massage table only to not use it? What if all these weird random silly little things that make me feel a certain way that is NOT how I expected to feel, is actually exactly how it’s supposed to be? 

I left my friend’s house feeling a tingling sensation and a need to manifest my future. But it was coming from a place of action, not feeling. So I leaned into it. I leaned into it by opening my laptop and opening a new document. This was challenging in itself considering I have not created a piece of writing with intent to publish it in months…maybe even years. I have EXCLUSIVELY been writing my thoughts, brain dumps, and inner most workings in my “notes” application, as a constant way of drafting. 

Why do I do that? I guess I need to make it “official”, right? In order to be an official piece of writing, I must have it be this certain specific way. I write it in a Pages document; I have a title/clear purpose to what I want to write; I have a specific platform I intent to post it on; and then I tell myself “now I am being a writer.” 

So why the fuck can’t I just allow myself to have everything I write be unofficially official? In other words, why can’t I just allow myself to not know the outcome before delving into the depths that is my brain. 

(RE-FOCUS; this is where I feel the imposter syndrome coming and think “don’t include this in your blog post.” But FUCK IT. I’m including everything in real time with little to no edits.)

Don’t read what you’ve written. Keep writing. Don’t allow your brain to go back to the cognitive space. I want to create, I want to manifest, I want to stay in this space of ease and flow. I am afraid if I transition, I will get tripped up. I’ll start writing inauthentically. Then I close my eyes and take a breath. Another. I am capable of so much more than I give myself credit for. I want to express this WHOLE part of me. I want it to be apart of the world ALL the time. Here I am.

I’ve been asking myself a lot lately; “what does working with children mean to me?” “Is it still relevant?” “Do I still resonate?”

I’ve been telling people I want to work with kids 50% and adults 50%. But that doesn’t feel authentic in this period in my life.

Brace yourself pediatric practitioners for a hugely unpopular opinion; I have never felt that there is a normal way to develop. EVEN in childhood. (ESPECIALLY in childhood). I don’t think that there is one way to do ANYthing. 

I always quote the amazing Trevor Hall who reminds us “you can’t rush your healing.” And I wish I could say that to parents about their children and that that message would be received with open arms. Maybe it can. 

This slightly altered way of thinking today is leading me to feel more present, more authentic, more alive. I feel scared and confused in my ego brain. But in my Tara brain, I feel at home. 

I want to write and publish my work. I want to be a writer just in how I see my own true self. I want to fully step into this creative process I allow to work through me. Do I read old texts and notes? Do I allow myself to go backwards in order to fill in the gaps and the blanks? 

Perhaps that’s where I can start. This is Oly* [only'] the beginning. Even though I have 50+ pages of “a book” of some form. This is only the beginning. 

(*Oly? I knew a woman who called her self Oly - pronounced OH-lee — short for Olivia. She was in her 60s and was helping to raise her grand-daughter. I played softball with her and she helped fill a hole in my heart that was yearning for community. So many elder folks have been coming back into my memories. No coincidences here. I am so trusting that this is for a bigger reason beyond my clear knowledge.)

I love typos- they remind me of some message I can’t clearly see. I have made so many typos that have resulted in these huge validating moments that have the capability to change my whole thinking. 

Fuck, I feel good writing. I feel like a psychopath and like I have so many random thoughts that have no cohesive theme, but I also feel authentic as fuck. This is how I express myself. Through words written and spoken. I want to challenge myself a little deeper. Can I be a public speaker? Fuck, I don’t know. I want to check my instagram and escape for a moment. But I’m choosing to stay present. Present and grounded. The quiet chatter of people surrounding me in a crowded coffee shop is so humbling and grounding. I love knowing I’m not alone but I can also be alone any time in my head if I absolutely want to. I love these streams of consciousness because they allow me to express myself fully and authentically. 

I have feelings that elderly are going back into the forefront of my life somehow.

I have feelings that everything is going to come full circle. I have feelings like I’m going to have to do some hard things, but that they are going to lead me to my absolute highest good. 

I need to publish something today. 

Big. Belly. Breath.

And here we are.

Thank you so much for holding space for this stream of consciousness flow state of writing. 

I see you. I love you. I am you.

Holding you close to my heart,

Tara Lynn C.