April, You’ve Taken My Thrills.

My intention in April was to revel in the exuberance of pounding thrills. Every day, my one dear mission was to find a thrill to hold on to— a thrill that fills the spaces of my heart, trilling with melodies sweet and delightful, pointing towards daylight dreams.

But there were none to hold on to.

My days were serene. There would be this void, a distinct emptiness that would fill my chest. A longing to be free of everything: burdensome responsibilities, judgements, nourishment and all else. I felt the intense need to be floating in freedom of servitude towards God. 

I found it hard to let go judgements towards myself. One morning, I woke up heaving with hateful words I used to utter to myself, blaring in my ears, bringing down awful illusions. I desired to kill those words, to burn this loathsome self-talk and be free of it at last. But it didn’t work that way, this too, had to be surrendered.

I feel like life is guiding me, again and again, to let go of control. Whatever I try to control now fills me with pain. Whatever I let live in my mind, filling the spaces with attachments and assumptions, it makes me lose it. I’m unlearning everything I know— there is nothing as risky, when it is inspired by intuition. My intuition has become my primary source of navigating the world.

Ramadan had been simple and generous in its merciful pain. It has brought me closer to what hurts to eventually surrender it. I eventually arrived to the sweetest fear one could have— that I’m not loving enough. Today, as I’m writing this, I feel a little bit fearful that I’m not pure and loving towards all existence enough. There is this feeling of being indebted to the kindness of the world. As much as it worries me, it’s perhaps the kindest fear I’ve ever had.

I’ve lost many parts of myself this April. I forgot how it’s like to dream daringly and to be excited about things in the future. All of that is gone— is it for good, though? I used to feel so certain about everything. Now, my friends ask me how are you? and the only reply is that I’m not sure I know.

It has been a very wildly enlightening month, and I’ve never been through life like this, almost floating everywhere. I shall always remember how it was like to be alive this April. This intense beingness that resists all kind of uninspired doing— that is a gift.

For May, I dream of a reverent love and passion to fill my chest. I felt so safe, too comfortable even, this April in my non-doing. I believe my heart longs for reverence, that kind of sweet fear that makes one of service to love. I pray to take care of my heart and care genuinely about bringing forth the work that is filled with beauty and healing. I feel now that I truly miss working with passion. Despite my watery, fluid nature— the fire of my soul has always been one that I adore and feel grateful for. This fire shines the path with much more knowingness, enough of it to get me moving. Yet.. it must surrendered. May it be a gift.

Thank you, April. I’ve learned a lot, and unlearned much much more.