The Space Between Detachment and Clarity

Life is a gifted cleanser. It does so by giving you what you need, not necessarily what you want.

It teaches that easy is boring and a scam. And you are neither boring or a scam. It’s being kicked out of your comfort zone. It’s wanting a different perspective. It’s the friend that tells you the truth that might hurt you for a day instead of lying to make you feel better for a second.

It’s the voices inside your head that show you where you lack self-compassion. It’s the unknown you fear that teaches you the power in surrender. It’s making mistakes to learn from them. It’s questioning and unlearning beliefs that have been holding you back since childhood.

My intuition is a natural cleanser. It cleanses by knowing what it is and isn’t. It attracts and repels. It’s the colour pink I’ve always felt connected to. It’s the symbolism behind dragonflies and bunnies. It’s the scenic route I decided to take on a whim.

It’s the decisions that changed my whole life. It’s my soul having visions and dreams that feel like mine. It’s angels with a sense of humour. A sort of lightheartedness that keeps me out of trouble. It’s the voice I hear the loudest when I’m alone.

It’s screaming in to a void – the inner child that keeps me on my toes. It’s my feet not touching the ground but I don’t care because I’m right where I’m meant to be. Time is a merciless cleanser. It’s the reminder that I’m still 21 and don’t know everything. Or anything.

It’s seeing your parents as people for the first time. It’s the sunset that makes you sleepy, and the sunrise that makes you forget that rent was due yesterday even if it’s just for a second. It’s the impermanence of all things beautiful and dreadful – like my mood swings.

It’s knowing and believing that a better version of yourself is coming. It’s being unrecognizable to people who never knew you. It’s losing your baby teeth. Cleansing is the space between detachment and clarity. A couple blocks away from perspective, somehow always near a collision. It smells nice. Hurts my eyes sometimes. Without it, I’d be filthy. Acidic. Moldy and stuck on the side of someone’s shoe, probably.

I cleanse when my thoughts no longer feel like my own, or when my dreams are scattered in a million different directions and I have no idea which way to go. It feels different every time but the result is the same: I look and feel more like me in the end. After all, you’re only able to kill 99.9% of the germs.