The Revolution Is... Celebrating Ourselves When We're In A Good Place
Writing The Revolution #6
There's a tendency.
A habit.
A zygoted zigzag shape.
Of being comfortable in some kind of comradery of curmudgeon-ness when it comes to sharing, out loud, the glorious graces that life grants to us.
It's easier. Safer perhaps. To voice the miseries instead.
The moans and the groans.
The hard done tos and the hardships.
The negative axis tipping towards gripe and grit.
Now, there's nothing wrong with this per se. Truth is the sprouting seedling of vulnerablity. That which curls around each other in the creation of empathy and roots that embrace in kinship.
Yet there's a shadow to this. An unspoken law. And it's to do with the art and the act of visibility.
Being seen.
Being seen in one's joy. One's happiness. One's bask in the sunlight of goodness and grace.
It's bright. It's blinding. It's brilliance.
And because of this fact, its shadow is dark. Black. Solid. A form that scuttles and scurries not unlike the bad ghosts in that heart pulling 90s movie Ghost. You know, the one with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze and that pottery scene.
Here in the UK it's frowned upon to stand in one's spotlight unapologetically. To rise up and raise a toast to the burning wonder of good fortune and opportunity. To wallow in the majesty of one's own genius.
We wait, like ink blot ghostly jet forms for it all to crumble down. For the tower to topple. For one to fall on one's ass ungracefully.
It's vile. From the media to those shit magazines to the anonymous cowardly custard trolls lying in wait on social media.
It's cruel. And mean. And curmudgeonly.
It's revolutionary to shine anyways. To celebrate loud and proud anyways. To say how fuckin glorious you are, and life is, anyways.
For isnt so much of our time here spent in the work of it all? In the trials and errors? In the hours slogging over? In the hard graft of generating the actions, the practices, the craft, over and over and over again?
For all those times invested in the hard bits. For all those nos and not quites and next times and the failures that may become the stepping stones to something more succulently delicious. Or not.
For the anxious nights and nail-biting thoughts of wondering how the fuck can we do it, and will this work, and am I enough, and so on.
It's crippling to pursue a creative life path. Exquisite, yes. Revolutionary, without doubt. But it's not for the weak.
We come out the other side slightly bent over, toughened and ruffled and older perhaps. More wrinkles to show. More callouses upon our palms or feet or heart.
Noone remembers this part.
That's why it's so valid to take those wins and run naked with them through the city streets.
The little moments of appreciation.
Of where you've had a success. A word. A praise. A well done. Feedback that sustains, encourages, inspires. Something that worked. A leap. A frog. A pause to take in the beauty of now. The engorged heart beating with pride as the curtains fall to applause. An idea that rouses angelic inspiration that floods you with gold.
There's always somewhere to get to. The next thing. Project. Action. Goal.
It's a never ending fantastical foray of possibility this creative life. And that's why it's even more important to stop, to raise your head, chin, tits, heart and say 'fuckin wow!!!'
They become pearls around your neck. The anointing of you in the field of your fame. The weight of your resilience, care, determination, hopefulness and desire for this life path you're trembling upon.
You can finger and fondle them when it's dark.
Or when you're lost. Confused. Full of doubt and fearful of the future.
You can show them off. Be impressive and impress upon. Reminding others that it's all possible.
And that it's OK to, nay, paramount in fact, to shout your screeches of satisfaction from the steepletops and the stages.
Celebration is a debt owed to the gods. For your fire. Your light. Your glory. Your genius.
To forget this is a beggar's path. And a blind one at that.
Don't be a beggar. Be the beholder of bounty.
It suits you.
Now come forth and celebrate below your finest acts and arts my darlings. Let us rejoice in your shining. Let us feast and frolic in your fine work and worth.
Aho X
Hello beauties. We have the following events happening this month of May. A paid subscription gives you access to all. Do come with your finest pen and ink, your most luscious notebook, your extraordinary imagination, and your willingness to explore.
Thursday 8th May: Writing Mentoring for all ~ Bring your articles, essays, poems, screenplays, book chapters and scripts, and let’s spend time together getting deeper into your craft.
Sunday 18th May: Our third Writing The Revolution writing workshop is a super juicy one, playing on the back of the Beltane blooming energy sap of this time of the year. It’s a cheeky foray into “The Taboo of Currency in Our Modern World: Embodying Your Sacred Prostitute Archetype”