Breaking Out of the Box

"Over and over again those people that are changing and developing realize they have contained themselves in too small of a cognitive or emotional box.  Each time they realize they are in a box fashioned of their beliefs and fears, they struggle to find greater freedom." ~ Kylea Taylor, The Ethics of Healing.



I found this in my required reading for one of my classes this week and it really spoke to me.  Over and over I have found myself in a box that is too small.  I have been defined by my parents, my teachers, my friends and especially my romantic partners.  I have grown comfortable in these boxes and accepted them as my own.  Yet there is a part of me that screams to be free.  There is a part of me that feels that I'm dying inside so I struggle to break out of the boxes I'm placed in.  Over and over I push the limits that have been placed upon me. For how long can I deny my authentic self?

It is this struggle to truly live that has shaped much of the last few years of my life.  I am exploring myself, living my bucket list, going beyond the predictable.  I have worked at shedding the definitions placed upon me by my parents, my ex-husbands and most importantly myself.  I have done things I never would have contemplated before, climbed mountains and zip lined down them, jumped off a cliff into the water below, sailed and surfed and swum naked in the ocean.  I have taken classes, volunteered my time and found my passion.  I have enrolled in college and become a yoga teacher. 

I thought I was doing well.  I have faced my fears and done it anyways.  I have shed old definitions of myself.  I have grown and stretched my box.  I thought I was free.  Then something happened to shake me and I had to wonder are we ever really free?  Perhaps we change the shape of our box or the color, perhaps we cut little windows in our box but do we ever take down the walls to truly live freely and comfortably as our authentic self? 

As I started to really think about my authentic self I came to realize how rarely that true me shines through.  Most often she is found in my own home, surrounded by my own children.  When people come into my home they can catch a glimpse here and there of this authentic elusive me.  But once I step through the door into the wide world of the unknown I'm beset by fears, doubts and insecurities.  I realize how rarely I speak my mind or express my preferences, how often I say I don't care. Do I truly not care or do I not feel that my wants and needs are important enough to be heard?  I label myself as shy, reserved, contained.  I have been heard to say that I don't like people. Rarely do I share me with anyone outside of my home.  This saddens me.  I think I am a great person, yet I am depriving the world of my beautiful inner self.  To paraphrase Marianne Williamson "who am I not to let my light shine?" 

There are people that I care deeply about that don't get to see my authentic self.  I care, so I am more inclined to hold back, not speak my truth, not show myself.  I feel that by not giving people the chance to see the real me, if I'm rejected, not loved, it isn't really about me.  Then there are people, like Pete my postman or Bob the deli guy, that have been a part of my life for years that get to see the true me every time.  I've developed a great friendship with my mailman over the years and it doesn't matter what my mood is, how bad I look, what I'm dealing with, when he shows up and honks his horn I go to him and share whatever might be happening on that day, with no fear.

I watch my children live their lives with abundance, with confidence and excitement and I wonder when and where I lost that.  I wonder how to get that back.  I wonder at what point I will be sure that exactly who I am is enough.  The truth is by not living my authentic self, by not speaking for what I want, by holding back I am shortchanging myself and all those who meet me. 

I have come to realize that over and over we expand our thoughts, our feelings and our beliefs.  The boxes we put ourselves in may become bigger but never truly fall away.  Becoming aware of where we limit ourselves is just the first step to finding our freedom.  There will always be ideas that stretch us.  There will always be new situations to experience.  As I contemplate the box that I am presently in I am deeply uncomfortable. I am struggling to find freedom.  I am struggling to release my authentic self and live fully.  I am practicing opening my heart, feeling things more, speaking my truth. 

This is me, without apologies.

Reflections on writing

Over the last four weeks of this Writing for Publication class I have started my own blog, researched different avenues for publication, written articles and grown in my confidence and abilities.  It has been an interesting process.  I have always loved to write.  I write letters.  I write lists.  I write emails.  I write in my journal.  Since I was a child I have always wanted to be a writer.  But at some point, my busy life, my lack of confidence and my insecurities got in the way.  I've told my best friend over and over that I'm going to write a book someday.  The book has changed over the years, once upon a time it was a children's story or perhaps a romance novel.  Now there are two or three books waiting in my mind for pen to be put to paper.  They have names and outlines yet I'm afraid that they will continue to wait and the pen will never meet the paper. 
Writing because I had to, not because I wanted to was a novel idea for me.  I write to get things out of my head, to express myself.  I write to share pieces of myself with others because it is so much easier to express myself on paper.  Words get caught up in my throat and I can't express what I want to say so I sit silent.  Even when I do manage to open my mouth and say something so often it doesn't come out the way I want it to.  I call it being shy or reserved.  Perhaps that really isn't my problem.  Perhaps the problem is more that I struggle with having the confidence to really express my innermost thoughts.  In this class I had to write, not by choice, but because it was a requirement.  Not only did I have to write but then I had to take my thoughts and post them for others to see.  This was a big leap for me.  Again it comes back to confidence.  I struggled but I did what was asked of me. 
Taking it one step further, not just posting my blog for my friends and family on facebook, not just submitting to my teacher and other students that struggle with the same fears, but submitting for publication scares me deep down to my soul.  How can I take my private thought processes and put them out there for others to read, to critique?  I searched through different options looking for a place where I would be comfortable and I couldn't find one.  I have a very personal style.  I don't feel that I would fit in just anywhere.  I finally made my choice.  I like elephant journal - the style and the feel. Once deciding that this is where I would submit my writing I ran into a new problem.  I don't want to submit my writing to someone else.  Once I submit to elephant journal I can't post it on my own blog.  But it is my writing.  I don't want to share it somewhere else. 
I feel that I have made road blocks in my own mind.  This was difficult for me.  I like the idea of submitting my writing to someone else.  I like the idea of having someone else edit my writing.  I like the idea of being exposed to many more readers.  I don't like the idea of sharing my innermost thoughts with strangers.  I don't like the idea of letting go of even the littlest bit of control.  I know I will continue to write for my own blog.  I hope that I will bring those books out of my head some day.   I can't say as to whether or not I will ever submit my writing for publication again until I see the end result of the process.  I want to see how it feels to be published somewhere else.  I want to see how it feels to have my writing edited. 
From start to finish this was a challenging process and one that I very much enjoyed.  I learned much about myself and about the writing process.  Even if I never do submit my writing for publication, even if I never do write a book, I know that I will always use writing as a method for taking my thoughts out of the merry-go-round in my head and clarifying my thoughts.