Kiwi Crocus (cranky__crocus) wrote,
Kiwi Crocus

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What Will Be Will Be

Today was one of those I-can't-inspire-myself-to-get-out-of-bed days. Or it was until evening. And then I tugged myself out, got myself into a shower and smiled for the first time in the day.

I love the way I look with my face wet and my hair slackened back with water, singing and playing in the shower. If I ever wondered why anyone would have a sink in the shower beyond for shaving, I understand now.

I spent time in front of the mirror watching how my body works as I went about doing my hair. I love my body. I think it's beautiful. I often have self-conscious thoughts about scar-tissue, scars, hair, pale skin, veins and softly curving flesh...but when it comes down to it, *I* really like my body! So I try to keep grasp of those feelings instead.

Jenne (camp staffer Jenne from first year Rowe) left a nice supportive comment on one of my Facebook status updates with some stuff she uses to get to sleep. I thought about how it's my Mind and fears keeping me awake, my fear of being pigeonholed in later life and not being able to do all the things I want to do.

The next song on was "Don't Be Shy" by Cat Stevens. I took a deep breath and smiled. It just all came together that I *will* be doing what I want, and the only thing that's keeping me down with it is this elusive idea of fame. Sometimes I think I want to be "known" for certain things--science, writing, song, art, the likes. Which is funny because that's just another form of pigeonholing. It made me laugh to know that I was spiting pigeonholing when all I wanted was to be pigeonholed as a Renaissance Woman who could do everything. When I realised that the fear and much of the desire dropped away.

I still want to do everything. But is being famous for it really the important part? No, definitely not. It's not the worst thing in the world if I'm known for Science or for Writing or for Both, and I'm playing ukulele and singing just with friends or freely on stage when I want to volunteer, drawing an occasional webcomic strip or painting my view of the world.

The more ridiculous fear in my stomach unclenched. This isn't the cure-all turning point, but the fact that I can reach this sanity is a good sign. So I'll need to remember how to reach out and grasp these sets of reassurances, taking the deep breath and getting back to the moment--remembering that what I'm doing isn't the end of the world, good or bad it's going to pass, so enjoy it for the moment or shake a fist but do it anyway the next moment will be upon me.

If the way to remember is through Cat Stevens and Harold and Maude? Grins, welllll I think I'll survive with that.

(I giggle to guess that Mum probably never thought she'd raise a daughter who adored Harold and Maude, Cat Stevens, Janis Joplin and Rachel Carson and used them to bring extra meaning or comfort to life. Cat Stevens' songs say everything I want to say and hear, so singing along with them is just perfect.)

What will be will be: let it be.
This too will pass.
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