trucatalyst

Archive for November, 2011|Monthly archive page

Reflecting on my Reflections

In Uncategorized on November 13, 2011 at 12:02 am

“What is the purpose of a mirror?” She asked pensively.

“Why it’s for reflection, my dear.”

For the past few weeks I have been staring into my reflection in disgust and loitering around in what Dr. Seuss likes to refer to as the “Waiting Place.” 

Looking and waiting for what exactly? I don’t even think I know.

It could be that I’m looking for a big opportunity to sweep me off of my feet or for a better sense of security to comfort my bank account. It might be that I’m waiting around for the moment I’ll get to see my nieces and nephews again or the week where I’ll be reunited with all of my 5 crazy siblings at once. It could quite possibly be, though, that I’m just holding out for the day that I’ll have earned my PHD, toured the country with TRU, or finally got to see my books on shelves at the local bookstore.

Or maybe I’m just looking for a sign, waiting for a feeling, or simply hanging around for a muse to take me out of myself and back into the heart of who I am.  

“But what if you don’t like what you see when you look at your reflection?” She pressed on

“Then you’re not looking in the right places, darling.”

So I searched again, but this time I wasn’t looking at my “reflection”, I began to “reflect.”

Looking back, I’ve gone from living in the desert, to NYC, to Germany, back to the desert & then right back to New York again. I’ve been to the darkest and scariest places in my soul, to the places in my heart that exuded enough light to bring me back to a beautiful life again. I’ve been in worn down dresses on the side of the road putting oil into my broke-down car, to having a driver pick me up at the airport on the way to a paid event. I’ve gone from spending 12-14 hours a day writing in every neighborhood Starbucks, bookstore and 24hour diner, to signing a deal to become an official, published author. I’ve gone from years and years of serving tables, dancing on bar tops, to rehab, and then to a fulfilled and meaningful sober lifestyle.

But through it all, I sometimes still find myself looking at my reflection and waiting; lingering in time like a droplet of water that’s hanging on the tip of a felted, fall leaf. 

And I wonder if I stay here long enough will I simply evaporate into nothing? Fall fatally to my ultimate demise? Or hop on a wave of wind and soar through to the nearest land of water where I will continue to grow, evolve, and explore?

“I think I can finally see what I’m looking for.”

“And what is that, my dear?”

“I can’t tell you now… the waves are coming.”