Truth be told

I am always trying, if not also failing, to check where I am lying to myself, and how I may learn more.
The reason why I am like that, is because I try to find which thread of truth within me feels most natural, which one will follow me during my life, what my own moral codes are and how I can better navigate them to live a peaceful life.

I have learned to do that by being a fierce seeker of what is true for me, while trying to avidly respect others’ truths.

A difficult task. One that is not quick to be completed, and is more of a constant choice that I am making, when confronted with different people of different backgrounds and different truths.

When I find someone that shares the same or similar general truths that I also believe in, it is comforting and unifying.

When someone disrespects my own truth, or I find their truth hard to swallow, I feel separate from them and upset. But if I grasp on to my truth as the only one to be followed, as the only one that should be, that is even more frustrating. I would have to spend my life trying to convince of others of my own beliefs. For them to see things my way. While there are brilliant careers made up of people doing just that, to me, that is not conducive to peace, my utmost top priority in life, and therefore, not really of any true importance.

Even in my own passionate path of truth-seeking and applying, however, I still paint pretty pictures (or dreadful horrible pictures) for myself that are sometimes not true, even by my own standards. I victimize myself, or glorify myself, in an attempt to control the situation, make myself feel better, or repeating a psychological cycle. I do that, and so do most other people that surround me, everyone to a varying degree of what they’d like to see, and how much “truth” they’re willing to handle for themselves.

“There are no facts, only interpretations.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

But I digress. What is truth but simply what we choose to believe? And if people “lie” to themselves for whatever reason, I don’t know that it is my responsibility to force them to come to another truth simply because I want them to.

That said, sharing truths is unifying, and not having people to speak your truth with, share it with, is lonely. I think that if there is to be a purpose in life, it is to share my life with worthwhile people of all genders and ages. I do not need it to be nor want that to just be a lover, or a man, or some romantic partner because I feel like that diminishes who I am. However some people do want that, for them, and if I am being empathetic and compassionate, I understand what that feels like. If I didn’t know how to or did not have the opportunity to bond with friends and my sister, I don’t think I would be able to handle the feeling of not being able to ever speak my mind, express myself, share my truth and life with someone, and if I had only ever been taught to validate myself with a man, then that’s how that would come out.

If I were not able to apply that compassion, I would drive myself crazy wanting the world and other people to change. I have now seen all the emotional pain I can handle. I am scared to go back there, but aware that I can get out. I do not need other people to validate the work I do, because they do not understand. I do not need people to see how I am because I don’t want to limit my depth to their perspective.

However finding those that swim under currents of perspective and beyond the limits of their fear, the people that speak your truth back to you before you’ve even opened your mouth, that is what is most beautiful to me. That is the most magical thing on this planet. Finding your tribe. Those soulmates. Your Truth family.

I wish to release everyone of any karmic ties they feel to me. I release everyone from their responsibility to care for me or make me happy, as I don’t wish to be their victim when they don’t. I wish to be loved freely, as I wish to love freely. Cat-like, being together because we choose to and not out of fear of being alone, or the need for the other to validate us. That is to me, the most magic, and I compassionately permit myself to allow others the right to seek their own magic in whatever way they see fit without my judgement. May true magic friends and family come to me, and may others find what they seek. -Self affirmation for magic and freedom

This is my truth today, and will probably lead me on to tomorrow. May I always have the freedom and will to allow my mind to grow and expand so that my truth may as well, and my ability to love greater and be more at peace continue to increase.

Yours truly,
Mox

21689984_117837582255773_6612850786466529280_n

Advertisements

20:50 29/09/17

Whispers of ideas, invitation to inspiration that we turn down, unable to know what the point of anything is.

So many people seem to have it so together, but all it takes is just one look in the right closet, and the skeletons will tell you a different story.

It isn’t about judging, but about having the full awareness that no answer is without more questions, no path without forks in the road, and a map that leads nowhere in particular with a compass that points to what you want except you don’t know what you want.

A cocoon inside of my head, coiled in thoughts of murmurs only said between clouds of smoke, sobs of longing and the right blues song.

The detachment that makes you seem so crazy is precisely what keeps you sane. What is a voice if not simply the sound of others hearing us?

Art is uncarried voice, the in between the echoes, and writing is the introduction and synopsis. The epilogue. The review. The truth is in its totality.

When I am left alone, without an audience, art is the elephant in the room with me.

 

My narrow reality

I find it hard to write for the outside now. I have been wanting to, so badly, identify the voices and impulses in my head. What validates me, what doesn’t? Where do I get my projections from? Who mirrors what?

I study it, cross-referencing it with how I’ve lived, how I’ve grown up, where I’ve been, and how my own views change depending on experience. I think to myself, “I didn’t know this thing about this until someone mentioned it, despite it being very obvious to a large group of people, so maybe someone else deserves the same allowance to not know something.” I take into consideration things like education, memory, lifestyle, family.

I then realize the paradox of how unique I am while still being a predictable reaction of genetics and society.

I become confused as to who to listen to, since everyone is imperfect and no one truly understood all aspects of my being. It’s difficult because so many paths seemed like answers, instead of just more dogmas. If you believe in nothing then it’s all equally possible, existing in the same place of non duality.

I am not understanding but I am maybe in acceptance. And I want to currently, be living in that acceptance, because the information here is kind of fun.

It’s kind of like this…

When you go to another country, a lot of things can change –deep intrinsic things– that open your entire mind and world as you realize that the things you thought were givens, that everyone knew, are actually different somewhere else. Things about politics and human justice, or beauty standards and social norms, or general acceptance for science and vulnerability to mysticism.

So that means I am aware of how my understanding of reality is all based on one manipulated belief after another one.

What happens when the ground underneath you collapses and you question gravity itself?

Well if you’re still alive you realize you didn’t need the belief that it was there for you to still exist. This is all metaphoric, guys, I still believe gravity is a thing. (Although, have you seen that one movie?)

For me, I realized anything goes, up to a certain point. I am not sure what that certain point is, because the reality is I see everything through fear because most of the people that surround me, my society, and my culture, see things through fear. Most people I know are ruled by their fear, one way or another.

Being lost so much, I tied so much meaning to certain identities I chose for myself, and felt deeply offended when someone else would not accept this reality I had written up. After all, to me, my chosen identity seemed logical and well-earned. For example, when I was a kid, I absolutely loved dragonflies. I still do, as it was my first tattoo, but back then, to me it was a personal identity thing. I was dragonfly girl. I held on to it tightly, and if anyone else tried to come around, claiming that they too, loved dragonflies, I enviously ignored their existence in my head. Only I could be dragonfly girl, there could only be one, and that One was Me.

Seems so funny now. It came from a sense of lack. I worked on letting things like that go, however the deeper envy within me stayed. I accepted the identity “given” to me (woman, latina, daughter, eldest sibling, half french, american raised, etc) and became possessive over them. There was a passionate desire to Exist, to Express that Existence. And the way that I knew how to do it, was by echoing my identity on to others. My existence always felt threatened. It was unstable, since it depended strictly on how others saw me. Did they recognize the mask I had decided to claim as my true face, and if not, why not, was I not good enough to wear this mask? The cycle would go on. Social Activism filled this craving, except after a point I realized it was all victim-based but…that’s for another story. Either way, keeping my identity has always been important to me, no matter how much I tried to shed it.

I looked for people that mirrored back what I wanted and therefore my mask would be validated and safe, and I would never question myself again.

I talk about this in past tense like it is something that used to happen but doesn’t anymore. It still does, in different ways. Just…less, more subtle, and I am becoming better and better at unwriting stories that I wrote for myself but that actually belong to other people. At noticing the masks I wear so as not to see some basic truth about me. I do not think that wearing masks is bad, or wrong. I just…don’t want to, because I find them painful and limiting. I am practicing the not wearing them. That just means I spend my time with people who I can be as authentic as possible with. But at some point certain masks are needed and I understand that. 

This type of..change, or shift or whatever you want to call it, is scary for a myriad of reasons, but one of the ones that stand out for me is because it means your relationships shift, and you might lose friends, though you might also make new ones. Except making new friends requires a lot more active steps whereas losing them, not so much.

Screenshot_2017-06-08-21-53-01-2.png

So perhaps I will lose friends. I have come to the peaceful realization of how OK that is too.

I feel the rejection but I feel it differently. Like a shirt I’m wearing, but can take off once I realize that’s all it was.

I do not want to tell people how they live. I do not want to give them my “expert” advice because I am only an expert in myself.

I get lost again, and fall, and that’s fine. I lose people, and that’s fine. I lose myself, and that’s fine. It’s all fine, it all comes back to this feeling, of right now. Not a feeling of going forward, or backward, but still a feeling of moving. A feeling of inside. Of looking within. That feeling is my mantra right now, what I’m choosing to live in. It’s called Mox. There’s a voice to it. Her name is Magic. And we are here.

Oblivion is the closest truth there is right now. 

-M