I’m in workshop with Mirabai Starr this weekend. There’s so much to write, but I wanted to share one exercise – a freewriting exercise in which we filled in the blanks of two different prompts.
I believe _______
What do I believe?
I believe in questions opening the heart and the mind.
I believe in knowing beyond words.
That’s why I can’t tell you,
I can’t write what I believe.
What the hell kind of question is this, what do you believe?
I don’t know!
I believe in the unknown,
in the space between,
the space where everything meets.
I’ll meet you there
beyond ideas of right and wrongdoing,
beyond all of these little checkboxes we’re all arguing about.
blah blah blah…
What’s that song?
Little boxes on the hillside…
It’s all the same,
we’re all wrestling,
take a breath, Chelsea.
Take off the nametags, everyone!
We’re all one.
That’s what I believe.
I believe in our primary identity as human beings,
just another animal living on this living planet.
The opposite of war isn’t peace
That’s the third space, the space in between.
I believe —-> I know.
I don’t believe ______
I don’t believe any of it.
I challenge all of it,
all of the bullshit,
all of the crap we all make up.
I don’t believe I have to accept any part of this story that I’m told.
Buy this, buy that.
Look like this, look like that.
You’ll never be complete without all of these things and more.
More, more, more.
I don’t believe that the thing that will make me happy is outside of myself. Yeah, that even means God.
That’s not outside of me.
That’s why I’m not longing for It.
It’s already here.
It’s like the world,
the whole universe,
is made of ice cream.
All I can see is friggin’ ice cream
and I’m sitting here,
scratchin’ my head saying,
“You know what I really want right now?
I don’t believe it.
You know what else I don’t believe –
or at least don’t want to believe,
though sometimes I catch myself
because I get scared just like anybody else –
is this idea that the world is ending,
the apocalypse is approaching.
The veil is already being lifted
and we can keep cowering
with our hands over our eyes
to pretend it’s still dark outside
or we can stand up,
take a deep breath –
breathe, Chelsea, breathe –
and help the helpers
who are already peeling the veil back.
It’s dark and heavy
and some are huffing and puffing along,
slowly but surely