Leaderless

For the first time in my life I have no boss, no paster, no guide
For the first time in my life I’m completely free to draw the lines and colour where I like because there is no “inside” the lines, no one will tell me if it is right or wrong unless I ask them to
Do I need to ask? Do I need to have an answer?

Are my lines true and allowed are they valid if unseen, un-scrutinised by another? Does something really need to be seen or heard to be true, for the creation of it to be real? Do I need the frame itself for what would be in it to be of value? 

I’m drawing and writing to BE 

Lines without a right or wrong. No one to tell me. 

I know it will always change and that is OK

This leaderless existence means I have to get up and lead myself
Trust myself
This leaderless existence means turning my head and seeing who sits with me in my fires, on my sofa, on my bed, in my head, my heart
Sure there are people, humans whom I love, each too wrapped up in their own humanity to truly see what I see or know what I know
And certainly they’re not qualified to know or see what sits in the inky blackness of my unseen and unknown

Yet I now see that I believed for a lifetime that I should subject myself to the second guessing of others
That felt safer than the simplicity of not having a clue beyond hoping for the best and living accordingly
Only the skeptical pain of other people declared such a way of walking to be naive

Perhaps it is so, was so, but it is my breathing – in and out – with goodness at the core and confusion only coming when I encountered a question over the goodness of me
It was always good
Never ever was a choice action or plan made in my head or any part of my being that intended un-goodness 

It’s simple – my heart and mind in all its complexities, I’m a perpetual hoper
I cannot be otherwise
The risk of falling is great and scary, but I hope nonetheless
Because without hope there is no point or meaning
And so I hope – to feel, to be felt, to heal, to be healed, to love, to be loved, to hear, to be heard, value and be valued – all without the division from confusion, without the confusion from the questions of the second guessers

We are all them
We are all second guessing, hoping for the best, to get “it right” while clueless to what “it” is, and what “right” actually means
A false framework of sense making, created by no one and everyone, that is needed for a fleeting season just long enough for epiphanies to come crashing through, to splinter the frame and all that it has formed around
To bust in with arrogant sound awakening us to the realisation that this is all a temporary experience we get to flirt with for a few short decades on the earth

We dig deep to find a meaning in a world where there is too much and not enough of everything of value
We get to try, yet to do so feels too much, yet to not feels worse
Tiring and exhilarating, meaningful and meaningless, humanity and the Godhead – it’s all a mashed up separated blending of being that is really there for the sake of joy – which is truly the fullness of life we all hunger for

naomi sarah