Stop Chasing the Next Version of Yourself

I might trigger some people by saying this…

But “healed” doesn’t mean asymptomatic.

Perfection is a lie that is sold very willingly by our society, show by the fact that we eagerly run on the capitalistic hamster wheel of “more, more, more.”

“More health. More beauty. More performance. More money.”

And its promise for perfection keeps us continuously chasing the next ideal instead of embracing our true reality—that many deem too daunting to stare in the face.

The ideal of now.

The reason so many of us buy into the vicious chase is because to accept the “now” is painted to us as lack luster (I believe on purpose).

We then steel our eyes forward to what’s next, struggling to keep hope alive like wet coals trying to catch flame, praying things will improve over the stark reality we believe we currently face.

My lovely human, the hard truth we get to embrace is this:

Being present, or “healed,” or whatever new buzzword is being used to describe us being grounded in this current breath, includes feeling unpleasant. Uncomfortable.

It includes experiencing pain, heartache, loss, and embarrassment.

It includes facing the fact that many of us, if we are not constantly keeping our eyes forward to the next standard to attain—are faced with the feelings we push back.

Feelings of worthlessness.

Because in this moment I am not perfect. And in this warped mirror we call society, perfection is deemed attainable—but that is not what we will see looking back at us.

The mirror constantly changes shape, moving goal posts like the lover you claim loves you, but whose true goal is to keep you from ever getting  too close.

For if you do get close, the truth will no longer be hidden and the mirror will no longer fool you.

But believing that this has our best interests at heart, we chase the reflection and wholeheartedly dive into the idea that in this current moment:

“I am worthy of nothing but rejection.

I am overweight. I am broke. I don’t have the latest things. My body is in pain. My heart aches. I am experiencing suffering.

Therefore, I am imperfect. Please take more of my money, my energy, and my time. Please fix me. Fix me into something you deem of having worth.

Please make me good.”

We forever remain children to the absent parent who leaves us breadcrumbs on the floor, reminding us day after day if we just work harder, we’ll eventually be given a seat at the table.

And rather than hold the gravity that perhaps humanity is quite capable of navigating challenges, and choosing instead to lean into this discomfort by straying from promised crumbs and getting our hands dirty from planting trees, plucking from them the incredible fruits of knowledge who’s power will drip down our chins with every bite—

We look away.
Towards the next thing. The next goal. The next must-have.

Because they said this is what makes us worthy.

This is what they said will make us feel loved.

We continue to fuel the ones who have what it is we think we want—with our money, our blood, sweat, and tears—not realizing that we are giving away everything we already currently need for a promise that doesn’t even exist.

And you wonder why you never reach the goal.

The truth is, this is the climax.
We’ve made it.
Our entire life is full of it.

SZA sang it catchily in her song, “Good Days”;

“Half of us layin’ waste to our youth, it’s in the present.

Half of us chasin’ fountains of youth and it’s in the present now.”

We’ve been taught to hate discomfort to such an extent that we spend all our energy, time, and effort into running from it—

Which only attracts this darkness towards us, like it’s some black hole who lies patiently, knowing it will inevitably draw us all in to its endless depths.

Never reaching a bottom. Never reaching the end.

Until we look up from our death beds and say,

“What I wish I would have done.”

But who first told you? Who first told you that you were not capable of feeling the dirt underneath your nails, the sweat pooling at your collarbones, tasting the blood on your tongue and feeling not just the egotistical sense of power, but true calm?

Of being as still and as present in the grime as you are in purity?

How would you know that life tastes sweet if you did not also know it tastes sour?

How would you know you enjoy hearing the sound of your daughter’s laughter if you did not also want to hold her close to your heart as she cried?

How would you know the difference between sex that awakened something unworldly from your hips, curling and unwinding through each vertebrae until it erupts from your lips like something being brought to life—

If you did not know the laughter you shared with friends over the complete disappointment of 30 seconds?

Because, my dear girl, if you only knew how much power you hold in each breath you take, in each word you share, in the mind you hold and the spirit you carry…

In experiencing the ideal that is the Now, the wisdom it holds and the trees you already have in your garden—

You might just be an unstoppable force who, in her sanctified stillness, would never need to run the hamster wheel again of “thinner, prettier, nicer.”

You might just become God.

And who profits from that outside of you?

Perhaps everyone.

And perhaps everyone just doesn’t know it yet.