Irrevocably devoted
The brain is a marvelous thing...
It’s hard to think of what to say to you. It’s hard to think of a way to describe —to find the words to say that I have been in a deep state of dissociation. Not just my mind somewhere else. Not just, I’ve lost track of time. But I find myself waking up grateful that my brain can control my body without any conscious effort on my part.
And it’s been important to me, to sit in this very uncomfortable space of dissociation, to not will, to not use force, control or discipline to shake this spell. I hate that fucking word discipline. I hate force. And despite my propensity, out of fearful habit, I hate control.
And this isn’t about word discipline or any of those words or how you feel about the word discipline because frankly, I don’t care. I’ve seen what that word does as an action— it’s not expansive. It’s not nuanced. It doesn’t make space for the different ways we can reach our end goals, or reevaluate our end goals, or recognize that there isn’t necessarily an end.
And you may say I’ve seen athletes, I’ve seen creatives, I’ve seen scientist, I’ve seen activists use discipline to make things change and change the world and I will challenge you every time. Is it discipline or devotion? Devotion to self, devotion to self trust and love. Devotion to creation. Devotion to humanity. A discipline or devotion?
Those two words for me exist in juxtaposition. One often gets lumped in with the other, if you’re disciplined, that means you’re devoted I don’t think that’s an inherent same. I don’t find the words to be synonymous. The dictionary would agree.
Devotion is like a deep breath sometimes it’s hard because you have allergies—you have a chronic illness—the weather is cold. Sometimes your chest is tight. Maybe you have anxiety. Maybe someone sitting on your chest. Maybe something is metaphorically sitting on your chest but once you have the deep breath, once you inhale and release it, even one time, you know that you can do it again know the feeling of letting it go the relaxation that comes from it. And the conscious and subconscious reminder to yourself in your body that you can do it again. And what makes more space inside of you than a very, very deep breath?
So, it’s been really uncomfortable to be so far removed from my own body —to feel as though I am a puppet —to feel as though I’m wading through a sickness like the flu.
The devotion I have to myself, in my mind‘s ability to protect self, my mind’s ability to take this moment and pay respect to the way this dissociation, which is now grating—constricting— has historically kept me here on earth. I commit to moving through with devotion and thanks even though it chafes me.
With devotion comes trust and with devotion comes safety and I can spend all day questioning— what are you protecting me from? What’s there that I don’t know or don’t see? I can’t say I won’t keep ask those questions. But truly in the last few weeks I’ve just allowed my mind to be as it is, to not strong arm myself out of anything but to just be. I remain devoted, not disciplined, devoted to my healing that’s scary and odd and alarming and incredible and wonderful and expansive. Sometimes it is just this.
And that’s all I have right now.
“I'm trying so hard to treat me better"