Embracing Kookie

When epiphanies come, my world sorta seems to slow down and there’s this sense of expansiveness that spreads like a sphere around me and kinda holds me like an embrace. It’s as if my brain has been literally blown apart and this intangible energy instantaneously appears to capture the fragments and allow - whatever sudden revelation - space to settle into my deepest thoughts. I frickin love it.

I also probably look like a frickin idiot cause I usually stand there with my Dutch hooded eyes wide open, my mouth slightly a gap, and my general posture frozen...which is actually a good thing considering my brain has momentarily vacaded my body - you know - easy return.

But, then add to this goofy stance a rapidly accelerating degree of excitement and adrenaline (cause I love it) and all of a sudden everyone in the surrounding area is well aware of a lunatic in their presence.  I can’t help it, I was born in the star-sign of cancer and the lunar moon just happens to govern me!

*sigh*

The beautiful thing about being me is that I am certainly not one dimensional.  I can be boring, if philosophical conversations are like watching paint dry to you.  And I can be irritating, if the animated expressions of joy and delight are like a dull razor to your face.  But I have decided to fall deeply in love with all elements of my existence; and considering I enjoy adventure and exhilaration, not being one dimensional makes loving myself so much easier.

Having shared that, it’s important to me to I clarify that I have made A Decision to fall deeply in love; I Am Not Deeply In Love. I think it’s a process...or should I say, I feel it’s a process? Regardless, at this point in time I cannot imagine what life would be like if I was totally deeply in love with all aspects of myself.  I think that might be called narcissism. I’m open to being wrong. 

So what does loving myself and epiphanies have to do with each other?

Yeah, the title might have given that away.

Here’s the story.

I was standing in the kitchen of Toronto’s Make Lemonade, wrapping up my interview with founder Rachel Kelly when she said something that blew my mind. It really shouldn’t have, but I’m just keeping the with the status quo on the “planks and sawdust” complex.  The one where other people can see things about yourself that you haven’t really noticed yet? Wait...I might have reversed that a little. Bear with me...If she said something that she noticed about me that I hadn’t quite taken in yet, does that mean she saw my plank cause she only had sawdust or does that mean she saw my sawdust cause she had a plank...well, she couldn’t have seen much if she had a plank in her eye so she must have been the one with the sawdust and since I didn’t really see it then of course I had the plank.  (I may have just totally bastardized the plank and sawdust parable...it does actually have a point...as do I, let’s get back to it)

The gist of the comment was that she couldn’t resist my invitation to interview her when she realized how kookie I was.

Kookie.

ME?

I mean I am half Dutch and I do love the dutch spiced loaf - which is called “Kook” in Hollands - and I’ve eaten enough of it to maybe somehow have the essence of kookieness permeate my energy field.   But, like, as part of my Identity?

That’s when the mental mind field occurred.

How could I not see it?

The plank, of course.

Look at that picture of my pants and boots with the hospital gown I took 3 hours prior to Rachels comment.  It’s right there! Kookie.

I knew I was expressive.  I knew I had creative energy and that I enjoyed fun, whimsical things because they countered the more serious side of my brain that wants to find meaning in everything.  I mean - Everything. And sure yes, lots of people have called me crazy. Nuts. Batty. Loopy. Whacked! But I let all that slide (eventually) off my back cause I thought it was just insults.  

Kookie, doesn’t need to be an insult.  It’s kinda like a bizarre way of operating and I’d much rather be bizarre than benign.  Actually that’s not true. Benign is beautiful and feels great. Benign is how I am when my nervous system is grounded and feeling safe.  

Bizarre?  Bizarre is an active approach to living.  Hm - I’m smiling - I just looked up the definition of bizarre: "very strange or unusual, especially so as to cause interest or amusement." True.  I am very keen on regularly embracing the more dramatic side of myself because I know it’s liberating for me and for other people I pass by who are inspired to express their own unique existence in this world. What’s that saying I love?  

“Just be yourself.  

Let people see the real, imperfect, flawed, quirky, weird, beautiful, magical person that you are.”

Mandy Hale, if this originates from your spirit as many sources seem to suggest, thank you.  Rachel Kelly, thank you for blowing my mind and shining your own radiant light.  

Stepping into my bizarre kookie ways seems like a really fun thing to do.

Heather Hurst