I realize a lot of the same things over and over again, a little deeper each time, don’t I?
Dearest Doodle Soupsters,
First of all, Happy New Year!
My birthday falls right smack in the middle of the holidays so this is doubly a time when I tend to take stock of the past year, reflect, prioritize, set goals, dream, etc. for the year ahead.
This year, I got particularly overstimulated during the steady stream of celebrations. Earlier in the month, I dealt with a bit of an identity theft situation involving many long calls and many, too many hours on hold with way too much annoying hold music (don’t even get me started, I tell ya!). And honestly, even then, I was still just about to catch up to my feelings about Thanksgiving, plus some news I’d received around that time.
By the time New Years rolled around, I felt totally spent. I cuddled up in bed with my husband and our cat Milo, nursing a migraine that day after day, just would not end.
I felt kind of defeated … like aren’t I supposed to be happy? All these celebrations? All this holiday cheer, right?
And I was happy, of course. I felt grateful, still do, and there was plenty of joy sprinkled throughout. And I was also exhausted and in that zone of too much information, can’t take any more in, need to hibernate until my head stops pounding, my whole body is aching, and I just can’t think and feel any more than I’m already thinking and feeling. And it’s hard to enjoy things when you’re flat-out TIRED and that’s okay.
I was just reading through some of the CDS archives — I realize a lot of the same things over and over again, a little deeper each time, don’t I? That’s okay too.
There’s still a part of me that’s terrified to believe myself. And that’s okay. Again and again, I realize that often, I’m already doing what I need to do. I just need to let up on the pressure, the torturous anxiety spirals … and some of that is just a part of the process, too.
Sometimes, I just don’t want to let myself feel what I feel. I’d rather pour every ounce of myself into doing, doing, doing because feeling is hard. Sometimes, it’s easier to start to run myself into the ground than to face the fact that I’m hurting.
I’m really proud of how far I’ve come. And my PTSD has gotten so much better. It feels good to be able to fall asleep at night with so much less of a struggle. It feels good to work, to go out and about, teaching, performing, interviewing people, writing, sharing my art, witnessing others’ work too. Sometimes, it’s precisely when things get better that I struggle to accept the fact that things aren’t all better and that’s okay. But I’m afraid that if I accept that I’m still impacted by my past, it’ll take over. It won’t. I know that. Maybe, I just wanted a break from what I know to be true. The truth can be heavy.
Last week, I wrote this down about my painting, “Invitation to come alive” …
There’s a quote that’s stuck with me for years now. “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
It comes from Howard Thurman — he was a mystic, theologian, philosopher, civil rights leader. He worked really hard in service of others and believed that tending to one’s inner spirit is crucial to that work.
There is so much beauty and pain in this world. And it’s really easy to fall into the trap of analyzing over and over what we should do, who we should be, what others need from us. Yet, over and over, this phrase rings true: come alive.
I have plenty of doubts but this faith returns. Or, maybe I return to it. Listen to that spark inside — somehow, it’ll light the way. Knowing without knowing. Listening without needing words, concrete sound. Seeing without needing visible proof.
I think I need to trust that that inner spark, compass, soul, whatever I call it, is important. Tending to that is not a superfluous task. It’s what allows me to chart and follow a path on a map that I cannot describe or draw directly, but it’s real somehow. And I choose it.
And, in a Nov. 2022 edition of CDS, I wrote about my painting “Transcendence” …
Just like this painting, my true colors are not static. They remain the same, sure. But they're also not always going to appear exactly, precisely, 100% the same. I am not static.
I can be a little different depending on where I am. I can make certain choices sometimes and other choices other times. That doesn’t turn me into someone else. This is what it means to be human. To be alive. To be conscious.
I don’t have to keep asking, “Which is the real one? Which is best? Which do I choose?”
I’m always me. And I want to keep learning to trust that.
Yes, I realize a lot of the same things over and over again, a little deeper each time, don’t I? But maybe, it’s more so that what I really, really need to know … call it an inner wisdom … is a home I keep coming back to … the process of returning … the visit to the deep end is not a one-way trip … back and forth is the way … balance isn’t static, 50-50 … truth is found, unearthed … when you know, you know … deep down, I already know … my soul knows the way home … daily life is important and so is this … zombie/robot mode isn’t for me … wake up, wake up … create from your soul … from love … love for existence, love for myself, love for you … nature is a soft place to land and it can be harsh too … this strange, bittersweet existence … absurd and sweet and tangy and sour and numb and sharp and soft and all this and more … is there a such thing as destiny or do we just make meaning from the pandemonium … is there a difference between? … all these thoughts running through my mind … what is there to find? … what am I searching for, searching for, searching for? … make art from the questions … ask anyway … let the answer come to you … there are no answers … my soul already knows … how does the wind know which way to blow, the tree which way to grow, the water which way to flow? it just knows, not why, but where and how, without words … why do I try to describe? … where does this human urge come from … to document, to depict, to sing, to write, to make meaning of this mystical, marvelous, simultaneously kind and cruel, existence? … I don’t know, I sing over and over and over, like a mantra, uncertainty sung is somehow soothing ….
Perpetually returning home, coming alive, moving toward acceptance,
Nicole Sylvia Javorsky
This post was first sent as a newsletter edition on Jan. 9, 2025 titled, "Chicken Doodle Soup #74: First Reflection of 2025" — sign up to get your doodle soup delivered right to your inbox!
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