YOU’RE A MESS (OF EPIC PROPORTIONS)
You’re a mess. You’re foggy today. You don’t matter to anyone. You’re unimportant. These are insults. Wounding word weapons of mass self-destruction. Or a word-lined entryway to the wonder of averageness.
I am a mess. Quite literally. A mass of sprawling phenomena that our smartest scientists are still trying to give order to. Anyway, rooms full of fun are rarely tidy.
I am foggy, actually, because my experiences don’t make logical sense to me right now. If they did it’s likely I’ve fallen for the lure of a thought about my experience, in which a tiny slither of time has snuck in between me and it and I’m actually enjoying a memory. Yes, my happy tidy thought about my experience might actually be a sign that I’m not feeling that much at all at that moment. I also can’t know clarity without the passing of the mists of concealment.
You don’t matter to anyone. That means I’ve given some words to some things today that I find hard to tolerate about myself, and I don’t like those words, so I’d prefer to reject them. It’s easier to place my rejection of those things inside of me, in your voice, so I can use them as a reason not to reach out and connect with you today. In this mess, in this fog, when I have not been able to tidy myself into the form I find acceptable, I find it easier to believe it’s you rejecting me than to come into the awareness that it is me rejecting myself.
I am unimportant. A joyful liberation of the imprisonment of my own thoughts. I am one of an inconceivable number. If I try to comprehend my place in the vastness of all beings like me, I get lost trying to visualise a tiny fraction. It’s so exhausting to try and think of how many that many are that my mind is blown, my thoughts need a lie-down and I’m left simply with the feeling I am as inconsequential as the billions just like me. One in a mess of millions upon millions. Which feels alright when you put it like that.
The image is a tin after I’d made a cake. I was dicking around with a mirror glaze cake and this tin caught the mess, and it looked amazing. Just a reminder that if you woke up feeling like a mess today, it’s likely to somebody else you look like a work of art. Same applies if you woke up feeling like a cake tin.
