Killing our soul to make room for the new

I often think that everything big we do kills fragments of our soul. Though those pieces are never the same as what is given and return, the ones we are lead to make it worth the sacrifice if fought for from the right place. Every time I have a falling out with one of my best friends or lose a lover because I’m leaving them to go on another adventure. Saying goodbye to precious belongings. Losing thousands of dollars instead of gaining from a gig gone wrong. The inability to stay on the fitness and nutrition routine I want. Every time I turn down an amazing job offer that will fix the financial and other struggles of this wonderfully painful journey. The agonizing side work that pays phenomenally less than those offers and comes with detestable treatment along with ego-crushing tasks. Having to wait to adopt another dog. To constantly deal with change and challenge without anywhere near enough time to recover. Loneliness. My soul is weary and heart is broken over and over with the the things required to forge my own path instead of the life this world has tried so hard to force upon me.

But then I travel to another country, get the chance to work on my book a little more, bond with new loved ones in exotic locations or have moments like Burning Man that remind me why I am doing all of this.

Still, I don’t believe we get a lot of those parts of ourselves back. Like saying goodbye to a lover, while I mourn for what I didn’t want to lose, they are sacrificed for the new that add so much more in return. Never the same as what has been taken, but stronger and more a part of becoming the person I want to be instead of a lost product of society in which everyone and everything else is telling me what to be and what I should judge myself for.

With payoffs few and far between at a point still close to the beginning, it’s hard as hell to still be constantly getting my ass kicked. Most of the time, it doesn’t quite feel it’s worth it, even if I do still know logically that it is. More than that, it’s the only life I can stand to live with. I want to be the kind of person that, when looking back at how I reacted during these hard times, I can be proud of and a good example for others fighting to live their dreams.

Slow to experience, it is becoming easier as I reach points of giving in and becoming fluid, which is also not easy to do. For me and my fierce struggle to hold on, these moments only come once I have no more energy to fight and therefore no choice but to surrender. Slowly learning how to let it lead, I am learning how to let the experiences of my journey mold the next step. That may mean spending a few months writing over seas with no other work and then coming back to the states for a few months to take a cultural breath and work freelance odd jobs in order to save for the next set of countries instead of the original plan to be gone for longer. Maybe it will turn into something else. Who knows. With my current unexpected stay in the Bay (minus knowing all along I’d come back for the Burn), I’ve had wonderful experiences of spending time and bonding with family on a way stronger level than I’d ever have expected. Lots of weddings and love that I don’t even want to think about having missed out on.

There is no time for rest in such a powerful stage of growth. At least it doesn’t seem like it. But I am learning. If for no other reason, because my body and soul are requiring it. I am losing big parts of myself, but gaining the ones that I have loved and longed for all along. With the death of who I used to be, the person I have always admired and wanted is finally starting to arrive.