A Radical Vision and a Difficult Choice

I only know that I have no idea.

Have you ever found yourself standing at the edge of a proverbial cliff staring at the fake rocks below, knowing you need to take the leap, while acknowledging the power of what you’re about to do?

I guess you could say the past year or so has been me unconsciously avoiding this moment. I kept looking for ways to avoid doing this and I ran out of options. I stopped writing because there was nothing more to say if I wasn’t going to acknowledge where my journey had brought me.

I wanted to tame down my message and make it fit in a socially acceptable box. I wanted to write about things I knew were “safe” because it was easier. Yeah, I’ve talked about my vision in fits and starts here and there, but it was surface level stuff that I was making palatable for “the masses”, for others who probably aren’t ready for everything I’ve been holding back.

Where does that leave me?

With a very honest choice.

Sometimes we get offered choices and we don’t like the options. That’s kind of how I feel right now. I don’t like the options, but not liking the options doesn’t make it any less of a choice.

My first option is to stop writing, to close up shop and walk away. I have nothing more to say that’s comfortable or easy or palatable to most people. But I’m not sure that not writing is really an option, kind of like not paying the electric isn’t really much of an option.

My second option is to share it anyway knowing that 99.9999% of people will think I’ve lost my mind. The funny thing is, it wants to be shared. It wants me to tell the story. It wants me to put it out into the world. I keep asking it why. Why does it want to be out in the world? Why do I need to shout into a void? Why do I need to put things out there that nobody is ready for? I don’t have an answer. I don’t know.

I know it’s not about finding an audience. I know it’s not about changing the world. I know it’s not about business or money or subscribers or any of the usual metrics. It’s not about platforms or SEO or buzzwords. It’s not a hot take either. It’s not philosophical, although it has a philosophical basis. It’s not spiritual although spiritual principles play a role. It’s acceptance, freedom, individual power, abundance, joy, and presence. It’s not needing anybody to share your reality with you. It’s being okay in your own bubble. It’s not requiring others to live in the same bubble you do.

Am I just deciding to live in my own bubble? Am I just the first one taking that leap by deciding that I don’t need to play by anybody’s rules but my own? Is that all it is? Then, why does it feel so big?

Because being socially acceptable is supposed to matter. It’s not about tattoos, piercings, and purple hair. It’s not about gender identity. It’s not about clothing. It’s not about who you love or who you don’t love. That’s what being socially acceptable means - we fit into the boxes - and if we don’t fit into the boxes we’re doing something wrong. But I don’t fit in the boxes, not because my gender doesn’t match, or my clothing isn’t right, or my hair color isn’t natural, or anything else, except that I have a wild vision for how life could be that would stop the fight and the dramatic pendulum shifts we happening around us.

The world is a dumpster fire and people keep defending the problems. I have a solution nobody wants to hear because it’s radical and it doesn’t defend the problem, it actually accepts the problem as the way things are. It makes the problem completely okay.

Allow all that is to be all that is. Just accept it all. Stop trying to change, control, manage, or manipulate anything.

It’s a strange paradox for me because while my writing won’t change the world and I can’t convince anybody of anything, offering radical acceptance and radical freedom offers change.

There’s a weird thing that happens when you start writing somewhat philosophically and then you try to honor the things you’re writing about - it can feel quite hypocritical. I can’t completely do the things I’m saying if I’m writing about those things. Writing becomes a hypocritical act of sorts.

That brings me back to where I started. What am I doing and why am I doing it?

I’ve said many times in the past, it’s not a question of whether I’ll make the leap, it’s only a question of how long it takes me to jump. I don’t know what’s next. While I’m not scared of the unknown outcome, I don’t know how it’s going to show up. I don’t know what’s coming. I don’t even know what I’m leaping into at the moment. It’s a very strange, yet oddly powerful place that I’ve found myself hanging out in.

Writing for the sake of writing or sharing for the sake of sharing is foreign to me. It feels chaotic but necessary. It’s also the choice that wants to be made. I could walk away but that would abandon the journey I’ve been on. It would be me abandoning myself. That might work for a while, but it would cause pain eventually.

I don’t know what’s next, but suffice it to say that when I know you will too.

Much love to all of you.

Della