Being misunderstood is not the issue. Have you ever misunderstood yourself? Maybe that’s an issue.
Time spent tying up my tongue stops my fingers from doing what they should otherwise, which is writing. Thoughts spread out somewhat like an intricate web – there is a pattern, but the substance isn’t made of threads I can clearly follow. It’s more like a mist – vapour created as my sun and moon meet and the heat evaporates the surface waters of my emotions. As this mist spreads, I seek for a balance between light and dark and hope that the light will shine on the mist, creating shadows from which I can decipher what they spell.
A dreamer's duty. A dreamer's duty. I’ve been writing about this for a while but have held back on sharing it or using this phrase as a title for a blog in case it sounded too aggressive. To say that you have a duty, to imply you're bound to or required to, triggers feelings from my past of being taught that my life was to be lived in requirement to God's standards. I’m also scared of sounding preachy. I grew up preaching and being preached to and really don’t want to continue with this mode of being despite the change of message. This time there is no message. But I’m so scared of sounding preachy that I often don’t say what I wish to. I don’t dare to write, or when typing, just hit the delete button. Back. Back. Back. Just save as notes to self. Please know that I’m merely expressing myself – there are no truths I’m trying to impart. Please disagree with me, be unbothered, or connect if you do. My aim is just to grow into myself and become a better person – writing is a sacred release for me to do that. I recently wrote a song. Here are a few lines from it. ‘I’ll just do what I can. I’ll just be who I am. And if that’s not enough, then we’ll always have love.’ I’m just a person who’s still learning how to live. A daydreamer.
I’ve had a few restless nights leading up to this full moon. I kept wanting to post about a dreamer's duty, but it really felt too pushy. This self-explanation might seem silly to some.
A few nights ago I saw Jane Goodall’s kind face close to mine, her sincere eyes looking straight at me. She always seemed so delicate to me. But she was absolutely remarkable. Yesterday evening I saw a post on Instagram with a quote from Maya Angelou on an artist's duty and it made me smile. She’s like a goddess – fierce and honest. What am I afraid of? Were they ever afraid? Afraid to be, to share, to do and say what they must, to live up to their unique duties as dreamers. What I’m seeking to say, many have said it before, and many may say it after.
Yesterday I also saw a post on Instagram of Egyptian feminist writer Nawal El Saadawi. I had never heard of her till then but her dreamer's duty was undeniable. I’m so grateful to start learning from her. I too write about religion. It is an integral aspect of who I am and of my life story thus far. If what I write will cause people to hate me for it, then so be it. This is my truth. So it will be shared. It is my dreamer's duty. Just as it’s my duty to sing.
That’s the beautiful thing, many a time our duty is what we already love, the essence of expression of who we are and what we wholeheartedly wish to do. Yet we stifle it for many reasons, most are external causes that we internalise and perpetuate, creating a cycle to keep us in our inner prisons - this I’ll write about from my own experience. But our duty itself isn’t the struggle – the struggle is the allowing of ourselves to fulfil it. Can you feel your cells calling out? If you do not allow your soul's DNA to dream yourself into being then you’re denying your dreamer's duty and all humanity suffers because of this. Life’s song can’t be sung if we don't all sing our part of the collective symphony.
With this honour of being alive, we do have a duty – to ourselves and each other. A duty to care for, to respect, to love, to create, to be ourselves. I’ll look to the brave and loving dreamers who came before, whose legacies have left us with a rich well of incredible kindness and humanity. Let’s look to them and create a network of legends to inspire our own bravery – we see them as legends, but they were once just ordinary people, like us.
They just lived up to their dreamer's duty and shared their truths. Imagine if they hadn’t.
With gratitude, Rose.
P.S. I feel awake now that I’ve let these words out. I felt knocked out, beyond tired, like in a coma. Sometimes it happens if I ignore the pen's call to paper. Comatose or in a cocoon? Get out of your cocoon.
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