Sometimes I say the words

And they don't make sense. I know this, and I say them anyway. It's because of the twister of thoughts in my head. I don't try to keep them in, or to make sense of them. Ok maybe I do a little but I don't try nearly as hard as I used to. My life is not predictable anymore. Maybe because I let go of the predictability that I held on to so tightly. Even after I could feel my fingers start to break, I still tried to clinch onto it. Then one morning I let it go. Then in that instant, I became lost. It's blissful. Aren't we all lost? We are born into a world we know nothing about, and from day one we insticely seek comfort. We seek fulfillment. We seek love, without even thinking about it, without ever being taught how. It's instinctual. We are born lost. We are born hungry. Everyday of my life was predictable. I knew where I was gojng and what I was doing a week in advance. I kept it all in a planner. I knew what needed to be done, and I did it. I was financially stable. I was emotionally stable, (with only two feet on the ground, not four), I didn't wander, I didn't wonder, I knew. Maybe I didn't wander/wonder because deep down I knew that if I did then I would realize that this WAS not me. That I was not home. I had a cookie cutter mold, a mold that I worked hard to fit into. The loving mother, devoted lover, honors student, valued employee, taxi, errand runner, the one who got things done, the one responsible for holding the reigns, the one who had to bring calm to the chaos. I was not weird, I was not strange, I was average. I was not me.

I never felt at home. I never felt honest. Yes, as far as I knew I was honest with the ones around me. Honest with those who loved me. But, in a honesty, when one is not true to theirself, they are dishonest; when one is dishonest with oneself, they are incapable of being honest with those around them. I was living a lie. As I watched my daughter dance barefoot in the grass like a crazy, free spirited, careless angel. I realized that she was being true to herself. She was being honest. She learned to dance by watching her mother dance, her mother showed her that it is perfectly fine to feel the grass beneath your toes. Her mother. I wondered if she would stay that way forever. Then I realized, she learned this from me, or maybe she was born with it. Maybe it was passed down from mother to daughter genetically. Society didn't teach her his. Society would tell her to put her shoes back on, and atop dancing because someone might think she was crazy. Just like society taught me that I needed to be predictable, that I needed to be the rock. Society doesn't know shit. I like to dance. I like the rain. I like getting drenched in the water in my clothes, I like sloshing in the mud, I like throwing my hands up and feeling the earth spin, feeling the wind kiss my face. I like the chaos. I hate being predictable. I like saving the undeserving, I like taking a risk, I like so much that society, or boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, family members have tried to keep me from. It's ok to feel. It's ok to breathe, it's ok to adjust your face mask before adjusting the face mask of the person closest to you. It's ok to sleep. It's ok to not sleep. I am me, I am chaotic. I am unpredictable, I am free.