The past week has been about settling into this new living. It isn't settled yet, but I sure am luxuriating in the Yes of the whole hilarious dang thing.
I'm sitting here sipping vanilla and black cherry vodka, kitties sniffing and playing and squeaking and even occasionally acquiescing to a bit of love gripping, for which I am grateful.
I am happy to have kitties to squeeze and vodka to sip. And not because I'm stressed from a stressful week at a stressful job, but because I just got an incredibly fly haircut by an amazing woman with blue leopard dyed hair and full body tats, and had this pretty magical 40 hour 8-5 work week, and the Life Force Known as Libido is running, and things become even more clear and overall life, you know, is so good.
I know I will be getting many, many, many more ass-kickings in the future, that this Onion Formerly Known As Katherine will continue to de-layer. And I also have come to so deeply appreciate the flow of freedom that comes from a huge cleaning of house, and the resulting fresh clean sunshine that lights up a perspective.
When I ask myself: what is it exactly that I did to bring about all this glorious freedom I'm now swimming and flying and getting high quality health care in, it is this: I turned toward what Life was bringing me and said: I trust you, I give myself to what you have brought me, I will turn the emotion inside of me that says "f*ck this awful sh*t" into something that is comfortable and gentle and okay and full of Yes.
And I want to tell you: turn and face the No, make it Yes, and the Yes that wil echo off of this will be so dang skippy amazing that your jaw will drop and your belly will be filled with the burble of infinite giggling and you will finally admit that you get The Cosmic Joke.
But I don't know this for sure. Because your Next Step may be about turning towards the hellacious No and saying F*ck You! and then stalking off to go milk goats and live off the grid. Or about taking the No and translating it into something that even your mother would deem a Yes. Or about taking The Anguish that has plagued you since you were a baby and then letting go gently as you walk away from mentally ill parents and boyfriends who really aren't friends, or accepting the fact that really, instead of working, you'd rather just loll away your living on the couch staring at the clouds.
For me, it was about letting go of the whole Faux Pretend Rebel BS and simply living a simple life, even if it shows up as so very not simple to others. It was about embracing what I believed to be evilness and the ultimate loss of life: a job in cubicleland, a body closed off from men due to it's fatness, single in mind and body, poor in terms of financial freedom, and surrounded by many, many cats.
But may I share with you: life inside of this fat body, behind the social work job, and the four cats, and the aloneness, is so incredibly rich and sweet and hilarious and full of possibility that yes, just any moment, the secret of everything and Nothing will unfold because every moment it unfolds a little more and has Nothing and everything to do with fatness and solitariness and kitties and fluorescent lighting . . .
For you, I ask: what freaks you the most? where does the terror hit the hardest when you allow yourself to look, or when Life forces you to look? Then that is where the freedom lies. You must look. And keep looking. Keep looking and looking and looking. And at first the mind will rebel, will give you a billion reasons why you shouldn't look, because really, you are a f*ck up, and a loser, and if you look too closely, the magic curtain of pretend, the one that fools most of the people most of the time, will remain in place, because something is better than nothing, and even though the something so very seriously isn't enough, it is at least something, and that is better than nothing.
But it's BS. Because, honey, I swear upon all that is fuzzy, Nothing is the way to go . . .
And the Glen Campbell soundtrack that keeps playing is just so . . . cleansing . . . like a rhinestone cowboy . . . and how the wichita lineman is still on the line . . . and how yesterday when we were young . . . and how you all are so very gentle on my mind . . .