Blank Pages

Last time I posted something here was back in February. How time flies!

Honestly, I have nothing to say or share. I’ve stripped away so much, from life and from myself, that I am living on bare land. There’s really nothing here. Of course, in the physical world I have my husband, my kids, chores to do, and things to celebrate or to worry about. But in my inner world it’s looking like Mars.

A good friend gifted me a big notebook yesterday. “Just do whatever with it. You can paint it, write down your thoughts, mess with it.” I half jokingly said, as I flipped through the blank pages, “This is exactly where I’m at right now - nothingness.”

This is a good thing for me though because I’ve lived forty some years of my life not being me. When you grow up with a narcissistic parent you are trained to please and disregard yourself. I spent the past few years unlearning many things. Metaphorically speaking, I knocked down all the walls, removing every living things, and burnt everything down. And then slowly bringing the self back into the light. The shock is, wow, there’s nothing and I have to learn everything from scratch.

How do you paint?

What to do with a seed?

I’m feeling sad, what to do with that?

Oh, I’m feeling excited for a friend! That feels good.

I’m like an infant now and I get to live my life for me. The only difference is my parents are now me, myself.