Labels

Humans can get quite obsessive when it comes to identifying and labeling. From plants to post its, to aspects of identity and morality, we want to KNOW what something is. And I get that because when you have a name for something you can check the box of knowledge. You can say “oh, I know you, I know aaaallll about you, you-named-thing-you.” And that feels good and less scary and even empowering. I get that. I really do. I’ll talk about how much I get that very soon.

I don’t really work that way though, most of the time.

I thought that I worked that way though. For a long time I would obsess about having the “right” answer, the “absolute” truth, the “proper” identity. I would feel anxious, jittery, urgent, about getting to the bottom of a thing. Dissecting it down to it’s smallest particle, to find it’s precise truth. It’s complete answer. The word/s that made it all make sense.

And when I got there, it always left me feeling worse than I did when I started.

I realize I may be talking about a few separate things here, but in my mind, it’s all one thing. I have an incredibly hard time putting just one word, or even two or three, to an experience.

It’s impossible, it’s unbearable, it’s excruciatingly painful. And yet the world asks you to accomplish this unbelievably mountainous feat every single day.

If I could speak in color, movement, in sound (I know words are sounds but you know what I mean), I would. A word, just one word!?! Are you kidding me?!

So I’ll do the best I can here to introduce myself to you in some words that I think you’ll understand: (in parenthesis are the things I would do/say/show you if I could)

Non-binary (my body spread out like a star)

Queer (I just barfed a rainbow on you)

White (blank stare)

Mother (holding my abdomen with one hand, other hand on my heart, head bent in adoration, the color blue)

Life partner to an incredible human that I adore with all my heart (hands and head folded like in prayer, the color red)

Farmer (brown and green watery swirl of sweetly rotting plant material teeming with life, cupped in my hands, feelings of excitement and wonder, the color yellowy green)

Autistic (forehead touch to the world, sparkles)

Highly Sensitive (this is the frozen but on fire part)

ADHD ( head spin, did you just see that?!)

Spiritually oriented (face plant on the earth, slowly sinking in and being consumed)

Make sense? Thought so.

My daughter describes words like this “they’re strawberries, growing in your brain, and sometimes you have to wait for them to fully ripen before they just pop out and are ready to use.”

Exactly.

Meanwhile, while we’re waiting, let’s dance in the field.