Sometimes I have this deep, indescribable feeling. It’s not one I particularly enjoy; it actually often leaves me paralysed and scarred. It feels like I become suspended in space, numbed out – like I’m watching myself and everything else happen but with no connection to it. For a feeling that feels numb and disconnected, I don’t really understand how it can also feel cripplingly isolating. It’s hard to ride this experience, aside from just the obvious reasons. It’s difficult knowing, living, breathing and seeing the truth; the connectivity between all of us and everything – then experiencing so much removal.
How can I go from a stage, where I feel like I lift and mobilise massive audiences; to feeling spat out by the big bad world. To being alone in a hotel room, or spending two days between travel questioning the entire point of my existence. I’ve wondered whether or not this dichotomy and dissonance is something I’ve signed up to experience forever; a balance of the humanitarian with the poet. The romance with tethering on the edge of pain, just to see if I still get stung or if I’ve miraculously developed immunity. I was that kid that touched the stove 10 times over, after all.
Many of my biggest realisations happen in this space. I develop a deep love, empathy and compassion for all that walk this human life. The balance of knowing we are a human family, but all must walk our own path. I begin to feel it on a deep level; we all fight battles. I see it when I watch people – I do it often, a lot at airports. I watch the way tidal waves crash behind peoples eyes. I watch the uproar through peoples oesophagus before an invisible noose is tied around their necks before they can get it out. I watch the way anxiety expresses itself in the jitters, or the smoking of a cigarette, or the drinking of a 3rd glass of wine. I watch the way other people watch other people. Sometimes I believe I can even read their minds. Like their asking themselves what the point is, or if anyone else feels the way they do. If only we could all know it, now. That we are eternally loved. That we are never alone. That we are all surfing the waves off shore.
It deepens my capacity, these experiences. It makes me that little bit braver to love generally. To love all beings. To love myself. To not get tied up in one specific detail of this life. A mentor once told me that directing your all your focus into a single person, or idea, is like picking up a grain of sand on the beach and declaring it is the only and greatest one. Learning to let love be forever transient, pushes me to my limits. Allowing love to forever breathe, and to not hold it in after the inhale. For love must exhale, it must continue breathing – it must change forms, places, people. It does not mean it ceases to be present. It is forever present. The lesson is in learning to allow it to breathe you, instead of attempting to breathe it.