the Wacky Magickal Power Of Being Yourself
Posted by Sean Stargazer | Posted in Inner Growth, Inspiration, Motivation, Self-Actualisation | Posted on 26-05-2009
Tags: awakening, being yourself, belief system, change, core beliefs, create new beliefs, creating change, decide, developing the new you, discipline, freak flag, happiness, Inner Growth, Inspiration, peace, pirate colours, self-love
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photo credit: h.koppdelaney
Oscar Wilde once said, “Be yourself, everyone else is already taken.”
So today I thought I would pontificate on being yourself, and why there’s a wacky, wild, and weird magick in that.
Now I used to think the way to happiness was to allow other people to give constructive criticism and then twist myself into lovely little knots attempting to be all things to all people. Then one day I realised that was “for the pigeons.” People have all sorts of issues that they will happily project onto you without a single thought to the contrary. I once encountered a guy (sadly, I dated him!) who saw me as a cold, narrow-minded person. I thought this was hilarious coming from a guy who couldn’t spell narrow-minded let alone cold.
The guy was a never ending source of comedic material that I laugh out loud about to this day. I digress, however. What I was going to say was being your adorable little freaky self is where it is at, fellow travelers. Haven’t we all tried to be what others wanted, hoped for, expected? Only to have the same people find fault with the ‘us’ we created at their request.
The reason for this is this. People do not respect people whom they can twist like a bendable straw on a whim. People do not appreciate the seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years spent creating a self that they would love. Not only will they not thank you for listening to their well-meaning advice on how to eradicate all of your quirks, faults, and foibles; they will look at you askance as if you had grown a second head, a third eye, and two more arms.
Is this you?
Creative, wonderful, wanderer who can’t stand working 9 to 5 in an office as the “tea girl?” (It’s an English thing. Bear with me.) Would rather travel the world, learning new languages, and letting your heart decide your next adventure?
And then you told this to your mother, best friend, and your great aunt all in one week. Next thing you know, you are sitting in a cubicle and five years have passed since you last had a conversation with your soul.
Yeah, but… I have bills to pay, etc.* (pontificate further, o great one, on the yeah buts, please…)
Yes, I understand that. I am not that far removed from the concept of working for a living. But I prefer my time to more soulfully spent. I hate suits, underwear, living by a clock, and getting up early. All the things necessary to succeed in the corporate world. I should know, fellow travelers. I have tried to fit into the traditional path. But, like Cinderella’s two step-sisters, the glass slipper did not fit. I was a dismal failure.
I tried working a job with Social Security, but my first day inside under fluorescent lighting, watching the clock creep ever slowly towards five o’clock I had an epiphany. It was this: I hate work! To say this was torture is cruel slur to torture itself. I couldn’t wait to get out of there! When I told my mother I was quitting, I am certain she saw all of her dreams of receiving a bi- weekly stipend while she acted like a hausfrau (she did not have a husband) go up in flames.
“Are you mad?” she sniffed.
Oh, yes. Yes, completely. After that, I watched tv, slept, and collected the dole. Did I mention I was also on psychotropic drugs? NO! Well, I was. And this is what happened to me when my lift (elevator) hit the ground. By this I mean, when I refused to let myself be its own freaky self, I ended up on meds just to live a life of quiet desperation.
Eventually, I got saved. A little voice in my head (No, not a psychotic voice!) suggested I move to California (the home of my cosmic brothers, the Red Hot Chili Peppers). Natch, my family thought I was nuts! Nothing new.
My grandmum asked, “How will we get your body back if you die?” She was concerned that I might die in riot or an earthquake. (Really, Gran?)
My mother asked, “What about your dole cheque?”
Seriously, mum? I thought. Okay, I think it has been established that I have your typical mum issues. Moving on.
My sister wanted to know why I was giving away my cherished possessions without batting an eye. I need the money, sister dear.
After everyone weighed in. I felt unsupported, shell-shocked and alone. I tried to get support from my grandmum, but she laughed in my face when she saw me crying. (Yet, I’m considered the crazy one!) Seriously, gran?
I wish I were joking about all of this. However, a part of me being me is the fact that I come from a family only slightly less barmy (English thing again. Means a bit crazy, nuts, bananas, complete fruit loops, etc) than the Addams Family.
If you can’t guess, I moved to California faster than it takes the Concorde to cross the Pond. In Cali, I became the divine, holy fool, blessed freak I was meant to be all along. A fairie-loving, angel channeling, cowboy hat wearing, urban mystic faerie goddess who adores the colour purple. A rainbow girl finally in RainbowLand.
And you know what? I like myself much better now. I let things go. By this I mean, I stopped grokking with the so-called real world. I changed my name, address myself in the third person, and stepped into the wild fullness of being the me I choose to be. And, I must say, it is magickal. I can’t wait to read the next chapter in my life. I really don’t know who I am gonna turn up as next. The third person speaking nut job who doesn’t over-identify with her mind. The recovering New Ager turned sorcerer. The Urban Mystic writer, masquerading as a cosmic clown. Who knows? That’s the fun part, fellow travelers. Not knowing which me I’m gonna meet today, tomorrow.
Natch, I get the occasional person who feels it is their duty to inform me of some character flaw I have. Something like, “You sure do talk alot.” The subtext being that they don’t like it, and would rather I practiced being a mute. Or live my life in pantomime. Or whatever the hell it is they think I should do. Unsolicited constructive criticism? Who the f*** cares?
Here’s the thing. I talk with a purpose. I tell stories to help guide people to their own inner wisdom. I listen, too. I nod my head a lot.
I’d like to leave you with this little raindrop of weirdness, fellow travelers: fly your pirate colours! Fly your freak flag high!
Like wearing rainbow coloured socks while walking in the rain. Great! Do that! And don’t let anyone else talk you out of it. Even if they whisper, “Everyone will think you’re mad.” Let the world think you’re mad.
FYI: most people in the world aren’t even interested in what you wear, eat, or that you exist. Only a small amount of people in the world give a toss about your personal choices. And that is because they have a lot invested in you following their rules and validating their choices.
I implore you to introduce your mind to the concept that it is possible to live in this world while being yourself, and, more importantly, others of a like mind will be attracted to you. But you have to be flying your colours first. That’s the first step.
Here’s an action step, my fellow travelers. It begins with a question like all good hero’s journeys. Riddle me this: what can you do to fly your freak flag today?
Answer the question, and take action.
Peace & Healing All
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