FRAGMENted MUSE.

sometimes my existence feels like words coming alive from pages written long before my conception. it poses the question "am i me? or am i a collection of all that came before me? during me? or after me?" perhaps i was written with the endless possibility of various expressions. i can't really imagine another life that went another way. so much of my life has felt fated. as if some creature from another dimension was rooting for me. who is it? it's not quite me? it has always felt like someone else. something else. my conditioning is my catalyst to reconnect with what is orchestrated for me. maybe that's why i keep finding myself on paths of unknowns. where my only guidance system is an existential compass. one that defies much of logic....and much of my conditioning. what a contradiction it all is. yet it makes so much sense...then it doesn't....then it does...then it doesn't...then it does. i choose the insensible paths and i’m drawn to the unimaginable. my conditioning says the unimaginable cannot be trusted. why can't it be imagined? why hasn't it been imagined? who am i to think that i'm worthy of its image? the image of god is not something you earn. it's something you are. my slight aversion towards the idea of motherhood became the very energy that initiated me into the path of sovereign creativity. up until this point i've only known creativity spontaneously or with me bound to its cage. as i write this, i am with-child with a creation that even i cannot conceptualize. it feels like a museum of my every embodiment. every form. it ties it all together. it overwhelms me at times... i've only ever experienced my creativity in fractures. parts...but never the entire machine. a fragmented muse, i was. now i’ve become my own reflection and it feels excitingly daunting. this new found awareness that my initiation into motherhood was fated. perhaps all women are destined to become mothers, after all. the full spectrum kind that isn't bound to physical reproduction. they don't tell us that you ingrain every kind of creation with your DNA. the legacy is cosmic. full spectrum motherhood obliterates all hiding places. the dark, the ugly, the beautiful, and whimsical. it's all able to be witnessed. bearing creation comes with responsibility. a vow to never look away. be frightened. tremble, even. scream in complete fear. but do not abandon your post. it's not as much about you as much as it is about what you create. that's what transcends you and unbinds you from the loop of "artificial" order.