Rambling our words on paper is like getting lost on a slow walk along the shoreline.
We meander in our thoughts, as we put pen to paper, getting caught in the waves of our writings.
We let all the pent up emotions of our expectations and who we should be, dissolve a little-by-little as each new word forms a paragraph in the story of our lives.
Eventually, we’ll find a sweet space where all the heaviness escapes, and maybe we’ll awaken to the awareness of who are destined to be—a whole loving person following their bliss.
“I always tell my students, go where your body and soul want to go. When you have the feeling, then stay with it, and don’t let anyone throw you off.” ~ Joseph Campbell
Campbell, an American mythologist, coined the phrase, “follow your bliss,” which has been shared around freely (even in the form of a bumper sticker that’s on my car).
By following our bliss, we can surrender to the inevitable path of being who are meant to be by feeling confident in living our soul’s purpose, but watch out—it’s not always as simple as it sounds.
Bliss is effing hard to acheive, especially when we are caught up in the heaviness of trying to do so many things—the working, the writing, the mothering, the loving, the longing, the yoga-ing and the bliss.
Campbell also expressed: “You may have a success in life, but then just think of it—what kind of life was it? What good was it—you’ve never done the thing you wanted to do in all your life.”
It’s true, but it’s also good to wonder about all the things that we do daily that we didn’t want to do in the first place, but in those moments of working or loving we’ve become stronger in our spirit.
Yes, I’ll admit that I’ve gotten lost and have stopped following my bliss during the chaos of my daily life over the past few months.
I’ve let the pleasures of living slip like sand through my fingers until a few days ago, when I (metaphorically) cupped my hands together to capture bliss. To do so, I had to stop everything in order to see my bliss.
I took a break from pretending to be who I was expected to be for others.
I pulled off my mask and really looked at myself to see how my self had forgotten all about bliss.
I felt into the “un-bliss,” in order to see what the hell had happened to me. How did I get so lost? How do any of us get lost? It happens—and then the self-critique settles in, so we can’t see the way out. Or at least, we don’t think we can.
For me, I didn’t feel worthy on so many levels, and I sat in that space of my uncomfortable truth—I accepted my vulnerability of being lost (an especially hard awareness for a girl who minored in Geography and never ever needed a GPS system to navigate her through any city or back roads).
However, I accepted that I had curved away from my true path because I stopped following my bliss. And yet, what was my relationship to bliss these days?
I sat there with the metaphoric bliss in my cupped hands and asked myself some questions.
Could bliss be vulnerability?
Yes, I suppose so, as it could be vulnerable—and yet, that sounded absolutely horrible, as bliss should be like fireworks and butterflies. Bliss evokes an image of sugar-coated, loving, rainbow-colored, chakra-openening experiences—right?
But maybe we have to experience a bit of the pure dark space of vulnerability, to see the uncomfortable truth realign us with our colorful bliss.
I felt into my “un-bliss” to find my bliss, and I began to shed the mask of who I perceived that I had to be for those around me.
Slowly, I let go of the weights that I had to hold up—and finally, I gave into opening my eyes and my soul to the possibility of following my bliss again.
Then I began thinking about the word itself—bliss.
Bliss is a kiss, but more—as it’s a soft touch of the creative spirit’s lips across your ears.
Bliss is a gentle hug—a reminder that we can love being creative and that others will still love us despite our difficulties.
Bliss is a pause—stopping to see where we are in the journey of living and loving—knowing it’s okay to be uncertain for a bit.
But most of all, bliss is being open to all the emotions within us—even the ones that seem to be the opposite of bliss, because we won’t know how to follow our bliss if we can’t be aware of what’s not working for us.
Author: Jessie Wright
Editor: Yoli Ramazzina