pointing myself home

day 333



The highlight of my day was getting my compass plate back from the kiln. It has really deep meaning for me and I really love it a lot. Really everything about the ocean has so much symbolism with my own life.



I feel like sometimes I'm the ocean. I don't know if that's prideful to say or not ... but the ocean is so big and huge and so many people only want to sail on the surface. Sometimes I'm calm, sometimes I get angry, but I feel like very few people have been willing to plunge into who I really am. I know I'm beautiful and am filled to the brim with things waiting to be discovered, but sometimes I need help with that. More often than not people are fine with just staying on my surface and to be quite honest, my surface is boring. My surface is shy. My surface doesn't understand very much. My surface is quiet and curious and naive and gullible and too trusting. My surface is too judgmental of myself and it doesn't think I'm good enough. But underneath my surface, the part that only a few people get to see (and parts that no one has seen yet), I think is overflowing with greatness. Everyone has greatness and for once I actually want to talk about my own. My depths are bursting with color and ideas and it's loud and sometimes my thoughts are so loud it literally hurts to speak. My depths are infinitely curious and filled with wonder from the world. My depths whisper aspirations that seem impossible but they drive me. My depths have deep pain and sadness brought on by storms and shipwrecks and sirens that I thought would stay in my life forever. I've learned all too soon that nothing lasts though (or at least, very few things), so I don't want to open my depths to everyone. It's hard for me to express things sometimes. I constantly have to redirect myself because I'm always failing, whether that be actually failing or just being too hard on myself.

So to bring this post full circle, my compass plate reminds me to share the depths of who I am, and it also reminds me that it's okay to fail as long as I continue to point myself home.