Though not an absolute, for many of us there will come a point in time when we question our reason for existing. What is the purpose of our existence - day to day and in the larger scheme of things? If we choose the moment to begin breathing, are we not as entitled to choose those moments of death and then rebirth?
I have reached this moment. There is silver in my hair and my hands and face reflect the tracks of time. I’m not an old woman, though no longer young either and definitely beyond society’s demarcation labeled middle age. I have by society’s standards outlived my usefulness in that I can no longer bear children (as if I ever could or even wanted to) and am beyond the employable demographic.
I am no longer a label nor do I fit into a conveniently prescribed group. It’s as though I am invisible. Maybe, though, it’s perhaps more that I exist in a super position outside the realm of that quantifiable idea of time… outside the realm of observer influence where my behavior equals a demographic which equals a label. Like Schrödinger’s Cat* I’m neither dead nor alive or more like I could be either depending on who looks.
A small voice says… Wait. You seem upset about that. Hasn’t that always been the goal for those who never wanted to fit the mold, never wanted to be defined?
Hmmm… got a point there. When I was a label, easily identified and put in the round hole, I wanted no part of it. I still want no part of it and, yet, there is a certain comfort/sanity/order in standing up and saying hell no I am not part of your little orderly labeling system as opposed to standing there unnoticed thinking... Hey, did you forget about me over here - I’m still living, breathing, able to contribute and make a difference. So why do you no longer care for what I have to offer?
Hmmm… contradiction… uhhh, no, paradox. I was something and hated it, but now that I’m not that something, not anything… not a thing, I hate that. WHAT?! Is that what THIS is all about? Feeling as though I no longer exist and it’s time to stop breathing because I’m no longer something society notices and hence no longer quantifies? That’s F**KING crazy!
Uhhh, yeah, I’ve been called that… recently and a lot! It IS crazy. I never wanted to be assigned to a group with a descriptive moniker that, at any given moment in time, implied what my actions and thoughts were based on my skin color, age, where I lived or any of a number of seemingly inconsequential attributes. HEL NO! But I also don’t want to be ignored as though this orderly grouping of atoms no longer vibrates in a meaningful way.
Small voice again...Wait, so you want to be measured so as to prove your existence? Don’t you realize that by being ignored, not being measured - no societal expectations as to what you should be or not be doing at any given point in time - you exist in all possible states simultaneously?!
Hmmm… thinking... thinking... thinking...
Thinking a LOT...
In truth, all I’ve ever wanted was to be allowed the space where, with regard to me, only my perspective matters. Free of the need to be a million things to a million others, at the expense of being what I need/want to be for myself.
Free to live my life, walking fully and whole-y/ holy, sovereign unto my soul’s sacred being-ness, without society’s labels. Without being observed and then measured for what I do or don’t do, how I act or don’t act, what I accomplish or don’t accomplish. Without the expectations that chain my soul to their way of being.
Society tells me this is being selfish. Though if you look at the etymology of the word selfish – self and ish – rather than the modern connotation, the meaning seems to be more of to approximate (to come close to) one’s self or the nature of one’s self**. Hmmm..
.
Recently, I have begun to feel I am the phoenix lying only as ash, waiting for that moment when the newly formed head pushes forth breathing its first breath of new, fresh air. Then suddenly, realizing – no seeing - I have wings, I burst forth and take off. No one told me I was ready. No one observed my wings. I saw. I knew. No longer with any labels or expectations, I am new energy, transformed into anything I want to be. ANYTHING!!!
Silence.
The knowing... gnosis.
That moment where it ALL clicks.
After all, if I am Schrödinger’s Cat – with my life, my death, my rebirth... my very existence... dependent on who is observing – AND, if I’m the only observer whose perspective matters, then my life, my labels (or lack thereof!) can be whatever I observe/desire/decree them to be. They can exist or not exist.
Then, as Knowings often do, we went down the rabbit hole...
What if in being Self-ish – coming close to our own nature - we begin to stand in our wholeness, complete unto ourselves?
What if that leads us to becoming Sovereign... highest, supreme, potent in a high degree.
No longer dependent on outside observers to define me, I am free to be any and all things. I am allowed... NO!... I allow... the space to be me.
Fully. Completely. Magically. Mysteriously. Powerfully. Whole-y. Holy. Me.
I am an alchemist travelling between the worlds of dark and light – a phoenix born of fire.
Curious, creative, passionate, wild and free, I am a sovereign being walking this earth as Woman. (Arlene Bailey ©2017)
Now THAT is Sovereignty.
Labels, Paradox and Schrödinger’s Cat: The Maze Toward Sovereignty, ©Arlene Bailey
Unless otherwise noted, interpretations are mine based on information from the Online Etymology Dictionary, Oxford Dictionary and Merriam Webster Dictionary.
*Schrödinger’s Cat is a thought experiment focusing on the ideas of paradox and quantum superposition developed and named after Physicist, Erwin Schrödinger.