Burning Rage

I wake up early. Like, 4-6am usually. I’m not meditating during those hours, although I used to. I’d wake up at 5am, meditate 6-6.30am and off I’d go to teach an early morning yoga session at a posh retreat. Where the wealthy go when life gets too overindulgent and they need to squeeze into their size 2 jeans for a trip to Monaco next month. Not really. But boy, am I fed up today. The relentless grind of emotions and talking is exhausting. This morning I awoke with a burning rage. It seems on this fine day, an entire build up of the last few months lands in the pit of my stomach and throat. People telling me how I need to dress and speak, that my book is this or that, that I need to shape up and show up because that’s how so-and-so does it. Then there is the incessant natter of desperation, trying to ‘be somebody’, get ahead, go big, make millions, marketing, strategies, get, get, get…all the talking, everyone’s opinions and “rightness”. It aches.

That’s self worth for ya and my god, all of humanity is seriously lacking in self-worth. No one fucking deserves anything. Everyone is sheltered in their own little world’s, enslaved by the mind telling them they need to keep working, keep striving, keep pushing, keep hoarding. So that’s what people do, just carry on, blinkered and divided. Us against them. The rich get to live the good life, while the poor carry on putting their money into banks…which belong to the rich. I’m done with all the trying. Trying to be heard , trying to be special, to have a say, to be powerful, to be able to control the world and all the people in it. Seriously. FED. UP.

Now, I know, I know. I should keep it light and acceptable. Keep my hard emotions to myself. But there are moments and indeed, this new life I have recklessly jumped into is telling me to not hold back. Keep expressing…the truth. Truth is, right now, I’m fucking sick of it all. I am so godamn tired of trying to ‘get ahead’, be important, be recognised (bear in mind I grew up with this my whole life) that I am ready to throw it all in. I get like that sometimes. I feel this weird sense that everyone is competing with me and that we all smile and secretly hate each other. Here it is. Confession. I write a book on fearless love and have a company called All To Love with the aim of creating a world where people actually love and care for one another because the world of ‘trying to get ahead and be like all the “important” people’ is disgusting and totally done in. Nobody gives a shit. Most people are just trying to survive. And most people are just looking for love.

Because of this, I have decided to live firmly in my own imagination. The lesson is called Living Imagination from “The Fearless Life Guide” All To Love’s latest project, a collaborative effort and book written by moi. I cannot even begin to tell you the year I have had and the many HARSH lessons I have learned. To end the year, jobless, broke, homeless and boyfriend-less. On top of that, friends have disappeared and others have really stepped up. With all that said and done, for the first time in my adult life I actually feel amazing in my body and totally supported, weird eh? I am not afraid anymore. A little fed up perhaps, but not frightened. I feel fucking fearless because I can see through it all. And that’s just being straight up. I see people’s facade. I feel the “trying” energy underneath the words that are acceptable forms of transaction. I do not want to fit into a world where LOVE is pushed to the sidelines in favour of control and domination. The insights of late have been mind blowing. To top it off, I can feel and see it everywhere. The ‘power-over’ energy of control and domination runs deep within. Why? Because of unworthy. Because deep deep down, nobody knows what the hell is going on and so, finds comfort in pretending and telling others how to live. Controlling others can eerily bring us a feeling of power, not to be mistaken with true worthiness, which is LOVE. Loving power is cool; unworthy power is fearful.

It’s now 7.30am. I write another blog and I think ’tis a season of blogging, because rather than ingesting any more of my Facebook timeline stories of destruction, alongside promo ads about making millions in under 45 seconds…I am fed up and writing is all I can do to soothe my irritation. And yes, it is all my own. My own irritation of being so fucking unworthy for way to fucking long. I am out.

So, there you go. Be willing to lose it all and you’ll end up happier and freer and bolder than ever. PEACE.