Self Deception-Total
Art: Marco De Masi
For a long time, my body, has existed under layers of frozen armor.
My choice. To stay is good for the kids.
My soul shrank, the more I hid.
In this “storyline” with this partner, my full radiance didn’t seem welcome.
Instead, playing my part felt like survival.
Staying small, made life calm.
The patriarchal wife.
Dutiful good women.
Eve.
-
I am a child from a broken home.
The broken home; broke me.
As a young mother I vowed not to make the mistakes of the older generation.
“My life, my family, would be different. It will be perfect.”
“I’ll never put my kids through the nonsense my parents put me through”- said my 25 year old self.
So I took my wild, poet soul, and dressed her up in a soccer mom costume.
And soon that costume became my prison.
I didn’t know where she left off, and I began anymore.
Roll play. All day.
-
This isn’t a unique story.
It’s a warped archetypal play.
Requires we stay unconscious all day.
Mother isn’t supposed to be synonymous with masks.
It isn’t supposed to be a collection of shoulds, a refrigerator full of tasks.
Mother is supposed to be a women in her power.
A women who has met with the cosmos.
Birthing women
Women as Portal.
Women as Doorway.
Women as Oracle.
What happened to me?
Where did I lose the plot?
And how do I change all these inauthentic yeses into “NO, I fucking think NOT”?
-
This isn’t a question for answers, it’s a living prayer.
“Let the truth carve me, the way water carves a mountain.”
“Let the performance, the masks, the roles dissolve”
“Let me melt into goo, let my life turn to ooze”
“Let me be disgusted with all that wasn’t true”
“Let me be nothing, so I can be something real”
Thank you, Thank you
#Saturn opposite #Jupiter #Neptune in #Pisces
