Anami Grace | Made Up Life

Turning back isn’t an option Anami Grace. I say to myself as I am clearly under dressed for this brisk June morning. I already held my fear, I had a vision of getting hit by a car this morning and felt the physical pain in my body like it was a premonition. If we turn back now we will not complete the ritual, and we must complete the ritual. Relax. We are protected. We are held. We are freezing. We are DOING THIS!

I have goosebumps as I speed along at 20.2 miles per hour. Hurling myself once again to the end of everything I know. I must be stupid. I think. Why would any human being on planet earth do all of this to themselves to create a whole new life? And then Balloon Girl pops up! Anami Grace! You are so brave! Do it for me!

My fear melts away with this deep rooted determination. I AM DOING THIS. I AM COMPLETING THIS RITUAL. FUCK EVERYTHING.

I make it through both roundabouts, and come across a man walking his two huskies. I tell him that his dogs are cute, and the smile rises up within me. There she is. I think. There is my higher self. The one who has a literary agent, the one who in the 11th hour shows up with the fruits of all of this stupidity? Bravery? And?

I can hear myself best when I’m risking my life like a real dumbass.

I suppose that nobody is more surprised than I am that all it takes to have the life you want, is risking everything and choosing yourself over and over again. Despite what the outside evidence of this capitalistic hellscape would tell me. I choose not to believe that is true for me any longer.

I’m to the river now and a cloud is covering my only hope of warmth. Motherfucker. I think. Why? Why did we choose this path again? The hardest way possible. Really Anami Grace?

I lock up my bike, and I meet a new friend. Hilary. I say to her: Sometimes I cannot tell if I am brave or stupid for doing this. Before I know it I’ve stripped off my outer layers and I’m swearing deeply in my soul as I head straight for the water. You’re going to go into shock. Anami Grace. Some distorted bitch ass jerk says in the background of my brain.

No. I simply whisper. I’m going to once again discover who I am at the end of everything I know.

I swear again as I make it to the river. It’s so fucking cold. I have goosebumps all over my pale skin. But I notice how my hips feel cute in my swimsuit. My hair is in a simple braid. I am not wearing any make up, but I feel so beautiful. Alive. And ready to face myself again in the last moments of this ritual. I can hardly believe that I’ve survived so much in the past 44 years of my human experience. Now it’s time to be alive.

My toes are in the water before I can even be afflicted by being all autism and air signs again, and before I know it. I am under the water. Holding my breath for the count of 30.

To 44 more years of loving myself. To holding the balance of everything that I am. The heights. The depths. The joy, the sadness. The pain, the happiness.

I come up and swear again. It’s so fucking cold. Pure stupidity. I think.

As I saunter out of the water, I’m stuck with the compulsion to do it again. But it’s waaaaaaaay too cold for that nonsense.

Hilary and I talk a little bit more about how she’s been so brave and riding her bike to work and taking the back roads. And my smart ass comes out with Despite what work has taught us, it was never about getting there, but always about finding out who we are on the way.

Can we just play nicely for 10 seconds, Anami Grace? Can we not be an insufferable know it all? The answer is no. Because we earned every little bit of this wisdom through finding out exactly who we were through blazing a path through our bravery and stupidity. Over and over again. Through using what the world told us not to do as a roadmap to loving ourselves into wholeness.

And what we got out of it. Was a completed water ritual. The most important relationship of our lifetime. And the understanding that the hard parts. The parts that make you feel like you’re going to die. Are the best parts of who we are.

Anyway. Love and light to you all. Take care! Bye.