Paint me a self-deluded optimist
A beloved friend of mine has this way of categorizing people.
He likes to call people fashionistas (hence the existence of fashionistos) or city girls or Astro b*words (let’s say Astro babes so as to keep it PG-13).
In true taxonomist fashion, he’s built an elaborate mindmap with minute and care to categorize or typify different kinds of people.
Although I have nothing against these lovely ladies,
He once called me one and I simply want to state that:
I’m no Astro babe.
But again, I’m no Astro babe
I mean, of course I stargaze and meditate
And medicate in green spaces and under the moonlight
I enjoy basking in the sun
Letting the rays in
And clearing inner paths
And opening ways to the channels
Most in tune with messages of Divine origin
Allowing them in through me in waves
From wherever they were laid to rest
But I’m no Astro babe
I do pay attention to the subtle signs
I do trust in serendipity
I do believe in faith over fear
But I’m no Astro babe
I’m no an Astro babe
Even though
For a short while now
I’ve embraced the beauty
Of the chaos within
I no longer attempt to
Understand it
Control it
Submit it
To my silly human will
I strive for no will at all
I aspire to let myself get carried away
The same way a tree leaf lets itself sway
As if more confident than I could ever be
In the masterful design that moves us
I strive for action
Secure in its alignment with the cosmic order
I will say this, however: I get it.
Life gets tough.
As a kid, I used to suck my thumb. I’d do it while rubbing the case of my safey net pillow. The steps of this ritual gesture are still somehow still instinctive to my fingertips:
1- place a small portion of cloth at the tip of my thumb, securing it with my index finger and middle fingers on either sides of the thumb;
2- hold a small portion of cloth at the tip my between my thumb and index finger;
3- rub the slice resting atop the thumbnail
4- relish the first rushes of warmth and comfort.
I remember the distinct feeling that would ensue with striking vividity. It would make the world feel small, and manageable. Block out its harshness, dwarf it down to manageable, less incomprehensible proportions.
Whether self-soothing is achieved by sucking your thumb with a binky in hand; doing your own hair to massage oils into your scalp; diving nose first into a book, or even deciding on a 3am little snack break—which unvariably turns into a full course meal— or even spending an entire day at the salon to get your hair braided, self-care comes in many forms.
The recipe to self-love looks different for most of us. Occasionally, upon checking in with oneself, it’s important to share in the joviality and lightness that is found through laughter and lightness.
This was your daily reminder to laugh at yourself first and foremost, and if you haven’t found yours yet, to find yourself a tribe of like-minded folks to share a laugh or two about the inherent goofiness of life.
