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This empath's journal

I confess, I don’t know what I’m doing3 min read

I confess! I’m hopelessly lost.

I confess I don’t even feel qualified to live my own life, though I couldn’t say who should be doing it instead.

I started on this journey of having a business of my own a long time ago. I was on my winter holidays (when I still had a job and got paid annual leave) when I decided to set up a company for myself.

I didn’t know what I was going to do with it.

All I knew was that every time I walked into work the walls started closing in on me and it got harder and harder to breathe.

I had no idea what I set up the company for – up to the point when I started filling in the registration papers it had just been a vague dream. Something to achieve Some Day.

But I figured I had nothing to lose by starting before I was ready.

And, I confess, in the beginning I tried a lot of things.

I tried to lean into my strength and wrote blogs and made websites. But none of it excited me. None of it set my soul on fire. And all those projects eventually died.

It wasn’t until I started revisiting the dreams a much younger me had dreamed that I started to make some progress.

I’ve been drawing and painting since I can remember. And as kids tend to do, I used my drawings to interpret the world around me and express what was inside of me.

And that thing grew inside me. It got so big it just started spilling out of me.

So, I thought this is what I’m going to do. Express myself. All day, every day.

But then all the adults came and started poking holes in my dreams. They took my idea of wanting to become an artist and started poking holes in it, and imposing boundaries on it. Or what they called ‘being realistic’.

If I wanted to be an artist, they told me, I’d have to get into art school where they could teach me to become an artist. Where they’d teach me how to draw and paint, though that’s what I’d been doing for 16 years already.

Failing to get into graphic design school was the thing that finally broke my faith in myself.

I gave up. I was never going to be an artist. It just wasn’t for me. I couldn’t even get into art school!

Instead I went to college and tried to be what everyone said I should be. I wandered on the conventional path without any idea of where I was going with it.

All I knew was that this is what was expected of me, this was how I earned my legitimacy as an adult. By doing the Right Thing.

But I dropped out before finishing the first year – literally walked out of a chemistry final exam when I looked over the exam questions and realised I couldn’t answer a single one despite having been in the class all year – and somehow wandered back into graphic design through workshops and youth programs.

Eventually, I ended up in dance school for my performing arts degree.

And those hours spent in the studio have been some of my most fulfilling times ever. Using my whole body for my creative expression allowed me to connect to something integral inside me again.

I became alive once more.

Those years in the studio became my way back to myself. Because in that creative expression I found the truth I’d been searching for for so long.

And ever since then I’ve followed that creative expression that wants to flow out of me.

I don’t know what’s going to come next, and so, I allow whatever comes to come. I don’t know what I’m doing, and so I figure it out as I go.

Sometimes it’s hard and difficult. Sometimes it’s light and easy. But always it leads me towards truth.

So, I confess, I don’t know what I’m doing. But I don’t need to.

Because nothing in life is certain, and all I can do is find the grace in every single day.

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