They would think she was....
If she let herself be who she really was then they would all think she was absolutely mad.
She loved music and loved even more to move to it. It was a struggle though as she could not move in synchrony with the music- she was all out of whack. She would close her eyes to try and ‘tap in’ but then she would stumble and have to stop. Sometimes though if she closed her eyes and really went deep within she never stumbled and she felt a flow of some great soothing empowering energy take her over. Then she could move and become the music…as it became her.
However that happened very rarely. She was always too zipped up. She would never do it if anyone was there.
She did once. She trusted her companions and everyone was having fun, pretending that the rug was a dance floor, in that big old student house in Lancaster.
She started to move. She felt like she could. She felt safe to do so.
They laughed at her. They were ashamed at doing so. They didn’t mean to humiliate her. They were her friends. She stopped and resolved never to let herself be seen in that way again.
That was over thirty years ago.
The friend that had guiltily laughed at her was now dead from cancer.
Everything can be so sad.
Did everyone feel this confusion, this detachment, this separateness, this darkness…
Was this just the human condition? Or were there some for whom the words confusion, detachment, separateness, darkness never existed?
What Would that be like?!
She would probably not always wear a full face of makeup complete with primers, concealers, full coverage foundations and setting sprays.
She would let herself be seen as she truly was.
She might not wear a bra! Outside, in public!
Actually probably best to always wear the bra.
She would open the front door without checking, improving and correcting her appearance first.
She would definitely eat whatever she felt like that day, instead of deliberating and calculating over how depressed she would feel after eating it. She would enjoy the olive oil poured on the warm salads. She wouldn't obsess over the ratio of pleasure to suffering with every mouthful. She wouldn’t feel the real dread at what the scales would reveal the next day.
She wouldn't let a delicious meal ruin her day.
She would wear summer clothes in summer. The ones that were sleeveless. Maybe even shorts. She wouldn't wear her winter clothes in summer just because they covered over the evidence of her weakness around food. She wouldn't tell everyone that she was fine, not too hot at all.
She’d be open to people, she’d let them in. Instead of thinking that everyone was a potential source of hurt that would be wise to avoid. She'd stop being so selfish and self obsessed. She would smile at the world and not feel the struggle and antagonism in it…at every breath.
She’d stop pressing the brakes all of the time ,on everything, in every area of her life.
It would be a sort of freedom.
She would be dizzy with it.
She would be like her dog, or cat. Just happy.
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