Messy...

I got out…

I got out of a regime behind a Buddhist veneer. A regime that had me working every day, every night. I worked a full-time job and I worked another full-time job.

When I was home in lockdown I slept. I walked. I made food. I rested – and it felt good. No longer did I need to clean, to arrange, set up, set down, greet, hold the door, to fake love you, record the day, iron the crumpled dingwah, wash this, rehearse, revise, read, memorise, recite, prepare, dedicate, donate, the full length prostrate. To pray, to serve, to purchase, to sell, to motivate, to smile, to give, advise, organise, to show up. I didn’t have to show up. I didn’t have to show up. I didn’t have to show up.

The cracks began to show. And now…and now I’m free. I’m anxious. I’m wondering how to live my life. I’m confused about what to think. I get angry now. I am tired. I’m sifting and sorting and shifting. I found Netflix. I rescued a dog. My heart pounds and I feel like I’m going to faint. I am easily overwhelmed. One thing at a time. One person at a time. One moment – let me think. One moment, another moment. Choosing food, choosing clothes, being in shops, being anywhere – all too much.

I got out. And while this mess, this life, this time makes no sense – I’m free. I got out.

Lisa