simplerperfectionist

[simplerperfectionist]

okay here is a vision of my ideal life at present. i have a small house with a small yard all to myself. i have a flourishing vegetable garden, fruit trees and bushes, herbs, and native flowers. i have a hammock and a small patio and a grill. maybe i have chickens. i have a little roof for my car. maybe my car is electric! i have a bike that i use more often. i have solar panels on my roof. inside i have a cozy, minimalist bedroom. i have a welcoming living room lined with books, with room for yoga or dancing. maybe theres a fireplace. i have an office space set up, organized with calendars and file folders and mail supplies. i am organized and at peace, i never worry about missing dates or appointments. i am one with the flow of time, nothing ever falls through the cracks. i have a kitchen with plenty of space, reusable containers, quality appliances. i have a bathtub deep enough to fully submerge in. i have a guest room. my house feels safe and bright and warm. i love to be there. every day i cook and read. i go for walks, i do yoga, i study. i sing, i dance, i create things. a few days a week, i write. i have a quality mice and camera and lighting for filming. i go to the beach a lot. sometimes i go boating. i am happy and fulfilled. i travel at least once a year. i see massage and doula and reiki and tarot and nutrition and counseling clients. i am firmly grounded in a wide network spanning my community and beyond and i am a trusted and valued member of it. i support my fellows and attend many events. i am well known and well liked, it is known that i am dependable. i am also successful in film and tv. i am trusted and desired but reputed to be elusive. disappearing and reappearing at will, but the door is always eagerly open for me. i am extremely well compensated in my film work and i redistribute the wealth into my community.

[simplerperfectionist]

i would like to live alone and i would like a treadmill and i would like a home office and truthfully i would like a swimming pool and i would like to be in love and i would like to go to the farmers market every weekend 

[simplerperfectionist]

i sleep on your mattress every night and i dont often think of you anymore except for this: sometimes i eat chips in bed and i think you would probably hate it. it fills me with a sick joy to do things that would once have made you angry at me, and a sicker pride when i do things i suspect would make you proud. 

do you think of me at all? would you care? or am i the latest name on the list of people you dont speak of anymore?

[simplerperfectionist]

i have been on both sides of 4am now and i like the later side better, its more peaceful, less fraught. im not sure why its so hard for me to sleep anymore. in a mini lecture conner habib gave he said that days and nights are a form of inhale and exhale. i suppose i do feel like ive been holding my breath lately. i dont know why more now than before. maybe im just becoming more sensitive. theres something about the silence that feels like a shroud. i like being awake when no one else is - it feels like i have more space to breathe. and like i no longer have to pretend anything. i think anyone awake after dark feels this way, thats why grocery stores and gas stations and diners and such take on a different energy at night. i suppose thats also why night feels more dangerous and more.

we moved into mildred street yesterday and the new place is nice. i feel very small. or maybe very young. i dont know. im tired of carrying around my child selves. is that bad? my teenage self especially. i want to put her down somewhere and come back for her when im older. its mortifying, being known this way by my family. i feel like being part of a family is just constantly being witnessed as the worst, most immature version of oneself. and mine is forgiving at least of it, but it doesnt ease the shame of being seen. and i feel like we carry our transgressions around so that we can never truly outgrow them. 

im afraid to leave. i dont know why. i feel like im not allowed to. like leaving is abandoning my family. like its a cop out. i want to see who i can be in new contexts. but i think im also afraid of changing into someone they cant know. i guess thats already happening in some ways, and its better for me to allow myself to go without trying to drag them along with me. 

[simplerperfectionist]

im thinking about the time you would only eat things you could peel. and a month or two ago when i only wanted to eat things that were green. and maybe thats the point. to just go on endlessly becoming obsessed with things for a while and then forgetting that we ever knew them in the first place. 

[simplerperfectionist]

its my birthday now and i miss you. i know im not supposed to but i do. im 24. 24 24 24. kaitlin said youre good, you seem good. said youre seeing someone new. which, of course you are. thats mean, but its true. i just wonder if you think of me. and is it kindly? did i love you okay? are you sorry it happened? was i special? are you really happy? i hope you are. i want you to be happy and to live a good life. i meant it when i said ill always love you. 

maybe by 25 i wont be alone. i dont hate it, im just lonely. i miss having an equal, a partner, banter. 

i hope i have become someone you would be proud of. i dont know if i have, but i hope.

[simplerperfectionist]

i feel so disconnected from my family. and it makes me feel like im doing something wrong. like im not caring for them as deeply as i should or i can. like im expecting things of them. and i am i guess expecting things. im not sure how to stop. because i feel like i have needs that arent being met and im just coming more and more to the conclusion that they will never be met and that makes me really sad and disappointed. i dont even know what they are though! emotional connection i guess. i feel like ive disconnected from everyone though. that i dont really trust anyone to be there for me. and in turn i dont really show up for anyone else, and i dont believe i would be helpful to them if i did. i guess i still perceive myself as a burden. so how do you get out of that? you have to choose a different perspective. \

im lonely!!!! i feel alone here. completely and utterly alone. 

well, youre looking for something that doesnt necessarily exist, which is for people to telepathically understand you without any effort to build a relationship. trust and connection are cultivated. and youve stopped putting work into your existing relationships and not attempted to put work into new relationships so what do you expect to have happen?

[simplerperfectionist]

so what, then, is the point? if we agree that Life extends far beyond the boundaries of what we label and classify as the physical world, if my body is the vessel through which I experience it, if I understand this plane of existence to be massively manipulated and shrouded in unconsciousness, what would be the point? why, if it’s really as bad as it seems, and if my existence is not dependent upon my remaining alive here, why might I be here? and that of course leads us to the conclusion that it really mustn’t be all that bad, or we would have tossed the whole thing in the bin and cut our losses with it already. there must be something here worth salvaging. 

this is largely the thesis of dystopian fiction, that there is something inherently meaningful and human in us that remains when everything humans have created is stripped away. some believe it to be an evolutionary drive for survival of the species, but i find that to be a severe erasure of the human heart and mind, whose desire for beauty and creation transcends mere survival. 

[simplerperfectionist]

everything that is crumbling now was never real to begin with

let it go

turn once again to the body

to the land

go outside and see that the sun still rises

the earth still turns

the birds go on and on and this

is real life

this is the living planet

whose steady pulse hums on

it has been here all along

within you all along

let yourself return to its rhythms

feel the steady rocking of the breath

release the frantic churning of the mind

feel the late march wind on your winter face

and join the bright beat of your heart as it sings the oldest song

you are here you are here you are here

[simplerperfectionist]

what do i want? 

-i want to feel in harmony with my body. like we understand each other. like we are on the same team. i want to understand how to care for it, what it needs, what it is trying to tell me.

-i want to feel grounded in the world. grounded in my reality and in relationship with my universe. i want to feel powerful and safe. 

-i want clear and conscious communication with my guides. 

[simplerperfectionist]

i became so obsessed with the idea of authenticity, of being my truest most unguarded self at all moments, that i lost sight of the deeper truth that all moments are an act of make believe. one cannot be or not be the self, the self always is. but how the self is expressed moment to moment is a matter of choice. and i was so petrified of making a wrong choice that i more often than not made none. or blathered on incessantly about my existential dread in a way that might somehow reveal to others that even if i myself was not a particularly ‘good’ or interesting person, i was very much trying to be one. 

i wore bland things that hid my form and i stopped shaving or wearing makeup and didn’t take a picture of myself for nearly a year and i pretended this was a statement i was making about vanity and feminine norms, which, sure, but it was moreso an attempt to fade into a gray wash of nothing but thoughts. no one can hate someone whos incredibly boring except for their thoughts, and my thoughts could change daily. i chose when to share them or not. one had to get close enough to hear them before making judgments. 

what did i fear i would lose in loving myself? in truly and genuinely accepting myself? if i didnt hate or erase or apologize for myself, then i would likely face my number one worst fear: that someone else would hate me first. and then i would be proven right, i was a horrible and pathetic and embarrassing thing unworthy of the attention of the world after all. 

when i examined my own hatred though, i saw the catch. i didnt hate anyone because they were horrible people unworthy of love or forgiveness but rather because they had something i wanted, that i didnt think i had, and that i believed myself to be undeserving of and i resented them for it with every fiber of my being. and in this i have come to understand that hatred is a never-ending cycle of self mutilation. all hatred, though at times externalized, is hatred of the self. and by my theoretically self preserving inner hatred, i simply swallowed the poison before someone else could offer it to me. i devotedly participated in the very cycle i was so desperate to avoid. 

if you had asked me even a few weeks ago if i loved myself, i would have said yes, because i thought i knew what that meant. i didnt want to die anymore, or not often anyway, which in comparison felt like love. i forgave myself for making mistakes, even though i was desperate to distance myself from them, but i still thought that was love. i enjoyed spending time with myself even though i didnt believe anyone else in my life did, which seemed like love. i was investing in myself, trying daily to become someone i could be proud of, and i really thought that was love. but i dont think love is insisting someone change and i dont think its isolation, or shame and redemption, or simple resignation. here is where i would attempt to define it, but in an effort to be more honest with myself, i dont think i know how to yet. 

im trying to give myself the space to figure it out. im learning, slowly, slowly, ever so slowly about worth. knowing that nothing i do or dont do can decrease my worth as a human being on earth, and holding that to be true for everyone else, too, even the horrible and hateful. im trying to let go of the idea that i need to fulfill some sort of grand destiny or purpose in order to prove that my being born was worthwhile. maybe being alive is enough. maybe i am enough. i know i am, im just trying to believe it.

here is what i give the world: 

[simplerperfectionist]

what could i do with this time if not throwing it away on things i dont care about? if i invested instead in my actual physical reality?

i would spend more time people watching and like observing in general. noticing things. watching life unfold. walking probably. maybe at times writing. 

reading probably as well. 

maybe more time in my body, or rather connecting with my body. so yoga, walking, running, massage, meditation, swimming eventually.

investing in and studying things that interest me, online and at the library and at museums and such.

going to events in town. learning the local landscape.

reaching out to friends.

making things. making music and dance and art.

really embracing sensory existence. taking time to touch, to feel, to luxuriate. to taste, to cook and enjoy. to smell. to look, to see. to hear, to listen. 

in general to slow down and feel my way through life. to actually witness life as it is instead of believing life to be a trajectory. some sort of rollercoaster i am on and cannot get off. instead an existence i am immersed in. 

what do i wish to experience NOW? not next year, not tomorrow, NOW?

[simplerperfectionist]

What do you do when you are nothing but you are also all that there ever is? 

What do you do when you are alone in the dark, awake?

I can’t know what it is like to be truly and totally existentially alone, but I know what it’s like to be alone in the dark vast space inside of myself, and I know what I do to cope with it.

I tell myself the story of me.

A hundred thousand times over.

I tell myself about playing softball in the front yard with my dad and my dog

I tell myself about my sister holding me through the thunderstorm

I tell myself about Kaci Inners making fun of my unshaved legs in the 5th grade

I tell myself about getting called to the principles office in the 1st grade for drawing on a boy on the bus

I tell myself about winning an academy award

About publishing a novel

About moving to Ireland

[simplerperfectionist]

I don’t choose to live in a fair world. I choose to live in a world of grace.

We’re wrapping up the thanksgiving holiday weekend here in the US, and I spent a lot of time with my family, as I’m sure many of you did as well. For me, this weekend felt like the first time I truly showed up to my family gathering as my conscious adult self and I can confidently say I’m so proud of the person I am choosing to become. Because I stepped back into a landscape previously occupied many times over by younger iterations of myself, I was able to see the stark contrast between who I have been and who I am now. In moments where in the past I would have jumped to defensiveness, or instigation, or avoidance, or judgement, I was instead able to take a deep breath, see the old pattern for what it was, and consciously and intentionally make a new choice. 

Now this sounds so simple and grounded and clean when I phrase it that way, but this shit is NOT easy! And it didn’t feel so peaceful in the moment. My inner child self was VERY present this weekend, observing everything through my new perspective and asking “Is that how I was treated?” “Is that how people responded to me?” And as I navigated many shifting relationship dynamics, she did not always want to be kind or compassionate or understanding or even present. She wanted to be punishing and blaming and avoidant. And it’s hard, you guys. It’s hard to hold all of that. To feel that primal urge to run or fight or hide away and ask it to wait, to be still, to be present, to soften into the moment and see what’s really there. 

As I’m reflecting on it all now, that small child voice inside of me insists, “it’s not fair!” It isn’t fair that I felt dismissed or unseen. It isn’t fair that I unwittingly participated in dynamics I was too young to understand and that were created long before my time here. It isn’t fair that I felt left out. It isn’t fair that I felt like my emotions were trivial or that I had to be someone that I wasn’t. And it ESPECIALLY–to that hurt little girl–does not feel fair that I now choose to show up and forgive, to listen, to empathize, to include, and to hold space for the many different simultaneous truths that are present in my family, when she still feels hurt and angry and alone and unseen. But you know what? I witness and empathize with and hold space for her, too. Because she’s right! It isn’t fair. 

A song lyric came back to me this morning that brought me a lot of peace. It reads, “The beauty of Grace is that it makes life not fair.” 

You guys, I don’t want to live in a fair world. I don’t want to CREATE a fair world!!! I don’t want to create a reality where hurt people hurt people, or where mistakes are punished, where “sins” are repented. I’ve already tried that, and you know what? It sucked! I was not kind to myself there, and it certainly didn’t bring me any closer to the people that I love. I choose to create a world of Grace. I’ll say that again. I choose to create a world of Grace. I choose to honor old patterns for the purpose they once served, to forgive them for pain that they caused, and to lovingly release them. I choose to honor and hold space for my loved ones and the journeys they are on without needing to understand or agree. I choose to stand in the garden of my life and let those old hurts be food for the soil from which my greatest gifts now grow. 

In the spirit of this season, I embrace gratitude. For myself and my journey in this life. For those who walk alongside me and all that they have taught me. For all of the support I have been given. And for this Earth and all of the humans on it, for all of its beauty and all of its horror. As many have already spoken to, Thanksgiving itself is inextricably tied to colonial violence (as are all things in this country). May we, as a collective, continue to bring the legacies of colonization and white supremacy to the light and dismantle them with love and strength and grace. May we continue to build a new world together that honors all who came before us and all who are to come. I am very grateful to be alive with all of you, right now.

Love,

Erin

[simplerperfectionist]

if on a tuesday in november you are sitting in your room and life comes knocking on the doors of your heart what do you do? where do you go? 

do you stay here in the place you have always been and while away the hours dreaming of a world in which you do not live?

do you construct that world out of paper and string and smelly scotch tape?

do you go to sleep and dream?

do you comb through poems and songs for a sign that this is real?

or do you get up and go? and to where? to whom? 

i dont know how to be myself in the world. i dont know how to be the me that i am in my heart. i dont know how to give my heart away. ive forgotten. 

[simplerperfectionist]

in my memory i am peeling all your oranges for you because you didnt like to get the juice on your hands, but i know this isnt true because at the time you were only eating things that could be peeled. you said you liked having to work for it. i can still see your slender fingers deftly stripping the cold orange skin away in a long spiral and breaking off a few slices for me. im the one who doesnt like to get juice on their hands, anyway. but i would for you, whenever you asked. 

in my memory it is late november winter citrus, but i know this isnt true either, because we never made it through the cold months together. it was springtime. pale cara caras shipped from far away all the way to the large porcelain bowl in the dining hall. 

it is november now and i am peeling winter citrus for myself. juicy tangerines that my grandmother sent from florida for my sisters and i to share. they leave my hands scented and sticky and they make me ache for the sun, for a lover, for a home. tender this tender that. im sick of myself and im sick of all this and im sick to death wondering where you are out there in the world and if you ever think of me and is it kindly at all.

[simplerperfectionist]

all your memories are are stories that you tell yourself. they are mutable. they are, if you go quantum with it, occurring simultaneously and can be altered via your perception of them. it doesnt necessarily change the events themselves from your timeline, but it frees the you that is then to make an empowered choice, it creates a splintering off, a new timeline. or the potential for one. so for example if you recall secretly binge-ing on food from the fridge in the middle of the night because you were ashamed to eat what you wanted at dinner, when you address the pattern of food shame now and allow yourself to accept and trust your body and not to judge its needs or subscribe to moralizing narratives around them, you free the you that was (is) then from the shame narrative and it allows her to make that choice from a different level of vibration. the cringe-y memories that haunt you are alerting you to narratives and beliefs you are holding that are asking to be released.