It is not dead.
an initiation!
It is not dead.
It is not undead, either. (I know zombies can be scary.)
It is not dead — your dream of becoming an artist, or a business owner, or an underwater basket weaver.
There comes a certain reckoning point. We take stock of how much (or little) we’ve accomplished, how much time we have left. We wonder if we even want the dream that bad anymore, or if it’s a distant childhood memory.
If we want it that bad, we would do everything we could to get it, right?
I’m struggling to answer these questions for myself. But I do have a wiser voice coming in to break up the moaning choir that cries self doubt.
She says “You should be scared. That means you’re on the right path, the courageous path. Sometimes fear makes you freeze for a bit. Freezing doesn’t mean it’s over — it’s just a different phase. But it’s all the same stuff.”
Since I was a little girl with blonde ringlets who claimed to be an Earth fairy, I’ve dreamt of being a great singer and writer.
I wasn’t scared then, but I am terrified these days. Not of failure, of course, but of success. In a way, I also fear that my fear of success will turn me into a failure. Funny how that works.
The dreams I had are not dead. If anything, they’re more alive. What’s scarier than that?
As a child, my future felt like fiction, fantasy, a tale of some magical lady who wears cool dresses and twirls majestically across her happily ever after. It was easy back then for my dreams to feel effortless, fearless.
Nowadays my dreams feel heavier. More immediate. I realize the depth and scope of feelings that accompany this journey.
Anyway, I’ve had some issues going on with my health the past couple weeks and have been feeling sluggy. Real slug-like.
I let some clothes pile up on the floor for the first time in awhile. I let all the ashes of my incense sticks and the matches I used to light them sit idle in my incense burners. In many moments, I laid watching videos instead of working or creating.
Thoughts came up. They always do, pesky little guys.
Am I even a music artist if I take long breaks from creating or sharing anything?
Am I even a writer if I haven’t published anything in years?
Am I even a Practical Magic-core, FDA-certified witchy woman if I haven’t read tarot in weeks and let my incense ash pile up on my altar?
“It is not dead.”
That’s what a little voice told me when I lit my incense tonight, gazing into my pile of ash with great sorrow.
“What do you mean it’s not dead?” the sorrowful part of me responded, “It is ash.”
“It’s in a different phase, but it’s still made up of the same stuff. You are in a different phase of your life right now, but you’re still made up of the same stuff. Every past, present, and future version of you is alive in this moment, and in each moment, forever.”
“Okay wise voice, I see that glass of wine got you feeling some type of way.”
I write all this as a letter to myself and to anyone who receives it. I want to remind us that our dreams are ever-evolving, like we are. I want to remind us that they’re only ever dead if we say they are, and even then… ehh. They’re not.
Today is always a good day to start.
So I’ll start.
My name is Brooke Haynes. I am a proud Earth fairy, singer, and writer with a zest for at least a million things about life. I feel kind of like the poster child for ADHD sometimes, and I’m learning to embrace it. Living with a unique mind, I’ve been forced to learn a lot about spirituality and mental health, which I’m super grateful for.
This is my first post on Substack. I’m getting back into writing. I’ve been doing my morning pages (Julia Cameron stans know), but I’m ready to start putting my thoughts into the world again.
As I get started, I’ll probably post a variety of different things, like meditations, astrology forecasts, blogs, short stories, poems, and so on.
I see this as a way of getting in flow, building the muscles. I’m excited to see what the process reveals. Maybe I’ll find I really have a knack for something I didn’t know I had a knack for.
If you’re interested in seeing what my mind blurts out next time, you are ~cordially~ invited to come along for the ride. I don’t know where it’s going, but I can almost guarantee I’ll say some entertaining or relatable stuff along the way.
Welcome to my little corner of the world.
I envision it as a hut & tea table looking over a mossy pond, with frogs & mice in dresses & overalls eating cheese & crackers.
Grab a seat if this is your vibe, and mind your head!
xoxo,
Funny, I also felt GUILT for all of these things:
» I let some clothes pile up on the floor for the first time in a while. I let all the ashes of my incense sticks and the matches I used to light them sit idle in my incense burners. In many moments, I laid watching videos instead of working or creating.