the releaser
Man.. last month was a doozy.
Between some personal things brewing, the world being in literal disarray and also trying to keep the energy/momentum of the New Year alive, it’s just been a lot. Trying to stay patient and gracious with myself through mini storms has had to be an action lately, especially in times like these where existential dread is far easier to resort to. It’s beautiful though. As someone who used to crash out behind nearly every misstep, I’ve learned the art of ‘carrying on’ because there is truly no reward in spiraling.
I can only thank God for that, truly.
Pouring heavily from my cup in the month of January, I walked into February (happy BHM🥳) feeling a little depleted. As a self-proclaimed empath, I am not new to this feeling nor do I pity myself because of it, because the truth is, I’d do it again and again. Without hesitation. But damn, I’m like… exhausted?
My father taught me at a very young age how to give without expectations or reciprocity when he introduced the concept of charity to me. He always said, “Charity is not only monetary. It is in a smile, a hug, kind words and so much more. Whatever you give, Allah will give back to you x10, in Shaa Allah” and I believe him. However, I also fully believe in small bouts of isolation to replenish your cup to protect your mental health.
Balance in everything, always.
Starting this year off in Cabo, feeling the sun on my skin and my eyes seeing so far that I couldn’t differentiate the sky from the ocean gave me a sense of hope for the next twelve months. I don’t know how the new year does that. Like a fresh new start to try again, as if every day isn’t another opportunity. I learned so much about myself last year and my will to accomplish the unthinkable, that I came into this year feeling invincible. But I am human, and like humans do, I started to crash out when I felt like I was losing control.
The concept of “having or losing control” is one I battle with daily. Faith tells me you never had it to begin with but my human brain craves it to avoid panic and disorder. It’s a constant struggle settled only by reminders of the Most High.
As I was free-writing today, I remembered something I told a friend in passing last week about submission.
There is so much power in releasing control to God, especially when you know you never had control over anything in the first place. It’s so freeing to just submit to His plans and quit trying to do His job.
Falling short is truly a part of the process and failure breeds success, but it unfortunately does sting in the process. It’s called growing pains.
As someone who spent a chunk of time in therapy, I know that when I’m not operating at 100%, my cup must be empty. It used to take me several months or years before I realized that I needed a break or to step away from certain things/people I am feeling drained by.
Crawling out of January into February was proof enough for me to take a pause on a lot of things and hit play on pouring into myself again and I’m so grateful for the turnaround time getting shorter.
Writing is one of those things.
And while this blog post isn’t as silly or light-hearted as the last couple ones I’ve posted, I am so grateful to have created a space where I can share my innermost thoughts without a single f*ck given. I’ve said this before but I made this blog for myself first, and to whoever finds gems in it, second. I really mean that.
I have a few ideas in mind of how I'll replenish my cup that includes movement, more writing & getting out more (despite this brick ass weather) but essentially the goal is to start from the inside out. Looking forward to releasing last month and getting back to my baseline, and just going from there. One foot in front of another until I reach my next destination.
Ciao for now~
with luv,
always, in all ways.
