Divine Feminine Project – Week 10: Do I Shut People Out?
Do I shut people out?
This question posits itself, rearranged into statement form, from across the dinner table. In the grocery check out line. In all my memories of preschool, high school, failed attempts at higher education. Are you letting them in? No, you do not let them in. Are you a rock, an island? You are so mysterious, so indie and artsy, sitting alone with your Murakami novel and your chai latte.
Of course I wanted to belong. I wanted to let them in. I never felt let in myself. I tongued the password against my teeth, brushed my finger against the doorbell. I could get in. They’d let me in. I could say all the right things. And yet, I hadn’t found it. The place where no magic word existed, where all it took was a willingness and an intention. I didn’t want to “pass”, or fake it, or say all the right things. I wanted to belong.
I have finally found it. And I almost cannot explain it, for it’s more of a state of being than a physical place. I believe you love me. I believe you find me worthwhile, maybe even interesting. I believe that I have something real and genuine to contribute. I believe that I can throw my ideas of success and failure out the window, and instead treat each moment, each person I encounter, to the love I was previously too afraid to unleash.
At times I stand in the middle of this room of welcomeness, the steady hustle and bustle of people coming in and out, marveling at it all. No one is shining the spot light on me, waiting for me to fail. No one is plotting my demise. In fact, everyone else is so engaged, so excited, by their own inspirations, plans and ideas, that they are engrossed in what they’re doing. Sometimes I stop what I’m doing to join in with a friend, or else I smile and shake my head, too deeply involved in my current project. Sometimes others naturally fall in line with what I’m doing and I’m astounded by the quick work we make of things.
Am I inviting others in?
This question almost makes me laugh. For so long I’ve been worrying about belonging, that I forgot I could invite others in. That I’m qualified to do that. That all it takes is asking, to be the asker. “Come play with us!” I want to say. “Come join in the fun!”
There are no secret club houses. No exclusions or whispers behind fingers about passersby.
No. I’m in. You’re in. We’re all in.
All that outdated high school shit about being cool enough is over. There is a new paradigm and we are creating it by allowing it, by believing it and accepting it.
I thank everyone who invites me in, everyone who recognizes the shy little hedgehog I can be sometimes. Who believe in themselves enough to understand that I can sometimes withdraw out of pure habit. That relationship maintenance used to be a necessary to-do list item, not a joyful activity. Simply because I believed it was something I needed to maintain. Keep their attention, keep them interested. Make ’em laugh.
Oh, I release that. I release that old way where keeping up appearances, appearing to be social, was what I clung to. I was too busy playing offense that I realized it was never a competitive game.
I thank myself, and the wild, confident creature I am becoming. The coyote aligned with the moon, unafraid to wake the neighbors.