Authenticity. I strive for it in my writing and speech at all times. But sometimes I don’t like my authentic self. Sometimes I get pissed off on a soccer field and cut someone down with cleverly hurtful words. Or is that not me? Is that possession by these demons I’m trying to exercise? Like they come from a place much older than me and have a power over my will. Exhaustion, pain, fear…just a little and the demons get a turn at the wheel.
It’s not me. It doesn’t feel like me. I’m the one with the silly hat, dancing around like all there is in the world in that moment is that song.
I’m most authentic when I’m most present: in the dance, on the date, or in the game instead of in my head about other players. When I’m present I’m not worried about appearances, past injuries, or what might be gained from the moment. I direct all my energies to the moment, to the eyes across the table and the shapes and stories formed by spoken words.
It’s the greatest feeling to be present. It is when I most connect with humans, God, nature, and the experience of living, sometimes all at once.
God bless and thank you for reading,
Jason