When you feel like you are going crazy, I just have one word for you: Good. Or rather, two more: Keep going.
When the whole world stares, wide-eyed, at the wreck, and you can’t stop your mouth from running: keep spilling the beans, and let it all out. Just keep moving forward.
When you’re dancing in a room full of zombies and you can’t find the door: keep moving your body to the rhythm of your own internal beat, and don’t doubt that drum for a second, even when no one else joins the sway.
When all you want to do is sit and let the tornado of your thoughts swirl up and away until they disappear amidst stars made of the same exact ether, allow your whole being to float off into the abyss and know that there is nothing wrong nor strange with feeling as though you really must come from a galaxy ten light years away. And that most days you itch to return to a place you can’t even put into words.
When all this happens and more, all I can say that you just may be the only one sane in the room. Because it is in these moments that you are finally living. In these very pinnacles of time, you allow life to happen to, with, and through you.
You cut the cord between puppet and strings, and realize that you never really needed the hand to guide your movements anyway. Finally present, you and the moment become one.
Know that it takes far greater strength to surrender this way. It takes warrior courage and a heart of gold, not steel, to free yourself from the cage. Out in the open, you cease life as a robot, programmed to bend and to break.
You become like the water, instead. Moving in, of, and through. Loosening ties that have gotten as mangled as weeds. Whittling away at the shell till it breaks.
It doesn’t need to make sense.
Nobody else needs to understand your deepest thoughts, fears, and hopes. Nobody needs to be on board with your own brand of crazy.
There is nothing wrong with you, and you don’t need to be fixed.
Remember, darling, the crazy is okay.
Because you know what happened during your meltdown?
The world kept spinning. Air kept moving. Water kept flowing. Hearts continued to beat.
Nobody, and I mean nobody, stopped living, because you started feeling.
No, in fact, quite the opposite occurred. While you let your own crazy out, ten thousand children learned to walk today. And somewhere, miles, or rather, planets away, a moonbeam smiled down on the Earth. And under that smile, ten more realized that the crazy… well, it doesn’t need to be contained. And from them, ten others. And so on and so forth it goes.
It is in these very moments, of looking your own bouts of crazy straight in the eye, that you come face to face with all you were sent here to change. Closed hearts blocking doors. Dead marches for life.
Because isn’t crazy just relative, anyway? And that buttoned-up, box-checking ladder to climb, to me, looks insane. Built on two prods of wood, only a matter of time till it snaps. And then we’ll all spiral out of control, mad dash to where you’ve been waiting all along. In that very moment, we come alive in the fall.
The rest? Well, they’ll catch on, too, soon enough. I promise, they will. And until that day comes? Just keep dancing your wildish dance. Striking the drum, and howling the rest. Because, if for no other reason, selfishly, I need you to.
My very sanity depends on knowing that you’re insane too. As does the world. And that planet you’re from. You know, the one on which you and I met.
This post was published on Rebelle Society.