I don't need much. Dirt, foliage, a strong coffee, and the man I love.

I used to want much more though, I felt as if items or nice experiences could fill a void in me. That I could buy my way to happiness.

Although I have always tended towards minimalism due to growing up with a father who refuses to throw anything away, ever... I still fell prey to the idea that a purchase could make me feel better. I bought expensive bottles of wine, took myself out on dates to fancy restaurants, bought make-up and vintage dresses. As it turns out, I feel the same dressed in Armani eating oysters as I do on my couch in my PJs. How did I come to this understanding?

Spirituality.



I looked for relief from the pain I felt in baggies and aesthetically pleasing places. I ingested substances notorious for numbing their user, yet I still felt everything. When the sun began to rise on my shaking form, it illuminated all of the ways I was doing the exact opposite of what I intended.

I've talked about what came after that on Hive before, my decision to sell all of my things and move to a protest camp. I've never talked about what formed that choice outside of a penchant for activism though. I was in a ton of pain.

It was not hard to leave my life behind, move into a tipi and sleep in Thinsulate clothing inside my subzero bag so I did not die. It was a gift, one that almost certainly saved my life. I was spiritually starving, and life had decided to feed me.

I no longer slept when the sun came up, instead I greeted it with gratitude. I developed a ritual that I no longer do daily, yet still appreciate. I'd gather sage and cedar and light them on fire inside my smudge bowl. The smoke was clean, the Sioux say it is the great purifier, and it washed me.

I still have the bowl, a beautiful shell which sits on my bedroom shelf. It is now one of the few objects that are meaningful to me. I'd count it among my most cherished possessions, along with headphones that @yaziris sent me, and an ink blot that represents my connection to him.



My spiritual practices evolved and grew rapidly. Although I do not believe in God in a traditional sense, I developed an adoration for prayer during this time. One that I still carry with me to this day. Sometimes the only answer for me is to connect to the universe, sit inside it mindfully.

I still begin my prayers by smudging myself, letting the sweet smoke waft through my hair, fill my eyes, reach from my ears to my toes. And then I listen, letting my thoughts flicker and drift away. I suppose it would be more a form of meditation than prayer from an outside perspective.

But I talk to God, and I feel that God talks back. This has once again become integral in my growth in life, it's time for me to evolve once more. Just as I found myself selling all I owned to move away years ago, I now find myself again.

This time I will move across the globe, some seven thousand miles from where I reside now.



Although my intention was to write for this week's #KISS prompt, it just so happens that I am writing it on #TransformationThursday, which feels right.

I'm ready to let go of my fears. I am ready to face the trauma that has added shading to the lines of my life. I am ready to take chances, to chase what I really want unwaveringly. To stop letting my overactive sense of guilt or the unasked-for opinions of others change the course I sail on.

I have spoken to the universe, and it is holding me in my choices. That is not to say that it hasn't been, and won't continue to be challenging. What good things in life are not worth standing up to challenges though? Perhaps it is my avoidance of challenge that landed me in the depression that has permeated my life for the last years.

I kept trying to fake it till I make it, but one day I realized... I was winning at a game that I did not enjoy playing. I looked in the mirror and the light was gone from my eyes. The universe is mischievous though, and soon it presented an unlikely balm to the distress I felt.

^{My cherished ink blot.}

An urge to write began to grow in me, and I sought a place to set my words down. I liked Steemit when I was there briefly in 2017, but when I came back things had gone to shit. Where was everyone? On Hive it turns out, so I made this account.

I met a lot of awesome people, and one of them linked me an HTML post. It would turn out that it's author would be the love of my life, the only person I've ever felt truly understood by. From day one there was something obviously special between us, and it all started with me misunderstanding the post... I fucked my HTML attempt up, and it was the best thing I ever did.

Much like years before, a misstep had placed me on the right path. I cannot explain the feeling of being called to take action on something, but I believe it is something everyone experiences at least once. When I sat in the stillness of the world and listened, I was very clearly directed.

My directions were objectively loopy, placing me on a highway to what most would consider sheer insanity. I too thought I was insane for a time, hitting walls again and again. But I never wanted to give up. It's strange how life sometimes tortures us while it prepares paradise.

Over the course of perhaps a year or more, I've decluttered my brain quite a lot. I've been able to safely speak to someone who loves me about things that I have kept locked up tight in my mind for decades.

There is something penultimately healing when you trauma dump, and the receiver likes it. Even goes so far as to ask MORE questions about it, seeking understanding of how you feel with genuine interest. It's the sort of thing that might even make a lost scamp feel like an actual person. Imagine that.

It's set the standard for what I will accept in life much higher, turned my expectations of others from optional to imperative. I no longer kick myself around just for the sake of others. I could give a fuck less if they understand this or not.

I wasted too much of my life people pleasing, being the person that others needed me to be. As I venture into the next chapter of my life, I'm ready to be the person that I need me to be; someone who can teach her children from experience to never treat their well-being as an option.

I'm living in my divine feminine; held fast in the palm of God as I understand her. I no longer believe that spirituality has to be soft. Sometimes it is brutal, the strike that rips the fabric that would cover your eyes otherwise. Sometimes it is not for anyone but us to understand, this deep search for self-actualization in this wonky world. These days I am keeping it simple by trusting my gut.

I always deserved that, even if it took me a while to figure it out.

^{All photos are my own.}