Rambling with our words on paper is like taking a slow walk along the cliffs by the ocean. We meander in our thoughts as we put pen to paper, getting lost in the experience of writing.
We let all the pent up emotions of our expectations, and who we should be, dissolve a little-by-little as each new word forms a paragraph in the story of our lives.
Eventually, we’ll find a sweet space where all the heaviness escapes, and we awaken to the awareness of who are destined to be: a whole loving person following their bliss.
“I always tell my students, go where your body and soul want to go. When you have the feeling, then stay with it, and don’t let anyone throw you off,” ~ Joseph Campbell.
Campbell, an American mythologist, coined the phrase, “Follow Your Bliss,” which has been shared freely (even in the form of a bumper sticker that’s on my car).
By following our bliss, we can surrender to the inevitable path of being who are meant to be, by feeling confident in living our soul’s purpose, but, watch out, it’s not as simple as it sounds.
Bliss is effing hard, especially when we are caught up in the heaviness of trying to do all of it: the working, the writing, the mothering, the loving, the longing, the yoga-ing, and the bliss.
Campbell also expressed, “You may have a success in life, but then just think of it—what kind of life was it? What good was it—you’ve never done the thing you wanted to do in all your life.”
It’s true, but it’s also good to wonder about all the things that we do daily that we didn’t want to do in the first place, but in those moments of working or loving we’ve become stronger in our spirit.
Yes, I’ll admit that I got lost, and stopped following my bliss during the chaos of my daily life over the past few months.
I let the pleasures of living slip like sand through my fingers until a few days ago when I, metaphorically, cupped my hands together to capture bliss. To do so, I had to stop, everything, in order to see my bliss.
I took a break from pretending to be who I was expected to be for others.
I pulled off my mask, and really looked at myself to see how my self had forgotten all about bliss.
I felt into the “un-bliss” in order to see what the hell had happened to me. How did I get so lost? How do any of us get lost? It happens, and then the self-critique settles in, so we can’t see the way out. Or, at least, we don’t think we can.
For me, I didn’t feel worthy on so many levels, and I sat in that space of my uncomfortable truth—I accepted my vulnerability of being lost (an especially hard awareness for a girl who minored in Geography, and never ever needed a GPS system to navigate her through any city or back roads).
However, I accepted that I had curved away from my true path because I stopped following my bliss. And yet, what was my relationship to bliss these days? I sat there with the metaphoric bliss in my cupped hands, and asked myself some questions.
Could bliss be vulnerability?
Yes, I suppose so, as it could be vulnerable, and yet that sounded absolutely horrible, as bliss should be like fireworks and butterflies. Bliss evokes an image of sugary coated loving rainbow-colored chakra opened experiences. Right?
But, maybe, we have to experience a bit of the pure dark space of vulnerability to see the uncomfortable truth to realign us with our colorful bliss.
I felt into my “un-bliss” to find my bliss, and began to shed the mask of who I perceived that I had to be for those around me.
Slowly, I let go of the weights that I had to hold up, and finally gave into opening my eyes and my soul to the possibility of following my bliss again.
So I began thinking about the word:
Bliss is a kiss, but more, as it’s a soft touch of the creative spirit’s lips across your ears.
Bliss is a gentle hug—a reminder that you can love being creative, and that others will love you despite your difficulties.
Bliss is a pause—stopping to see where you are in the journey of living and loving, knowing it’s okay to be uncertain for a bit.
But, most of all, bliss is being open to all the emotions in us, even the ones that seem the opposite of bliss because we won’t know how to follow our bliss if we can’t be aware of what’s not working for us.
Copyright 2016 © Jessie Wright