The other day, I was at a bar and during this time of year; drinking life becomes an indoor tropical oasis compared to the blizzard surrounding it. No longer do you get a light flush comforted by the winding breeze intertwined with smoke as groups of dialog flood the air. Instead, you are met with a hot crowded sauna of red faces, talking into each other’s mounts and only the desperate go out to puff. I sat inside and could hear all the voice on top of each other, I was forced to lean in order to hear what stories were passed around. On this day, it was all about relationships. Everyone has experienced strange exchanges which led to chimes of advice Singing out. One could talk about a curious conversation and everyone would set a storm of analytical ideas as to what was behind.. except, it would always be overly simplified just to be able to wrap a bow around it…
When you start drinking you usually end up vomiting out delicious delights, KFC chicken, sandwiches and snacks intermixed with soda. But once you learn to grab hold of that tolerance, the vomiting of words begins. Suddenly, labels like red flags, toxic signs, personality types, astrological signs and unprofessional diagnostic labels are placed on everyone and everything. Simply put, whatever word comes up when you imagine someone is thrown and stuck onto the forehead. They are all thrown around and shouted in every ear because the repercussions of it falling into a brain cabinet rather than a bin are slim.
These words ringed in my head and scared away any characteristics of their meaning. The ringing turned into an alarming reminder and took me back to a different conversation where I discussed with a friend the repercussions of having astrological beliefs (I have mentioned this very person often in my blog so I think she is worthy of a name, I shall call her Pumpkin for now). One issue that both of us saw was how limiting astrological identifiers can be. Having an otherworldly explanation, in this case being stars, on your persona lets one give up a certain amount of agency and person introspection by limiting one’s capacity. One example that I can give is that I am what astrologers call a ‘triple water sign’ which means that my sun, moon and rising planets are in the signs of water (Pisces, Scorpio, Cancer) when I was born. This means, astrologically, that I am a very watery person which are associated with creativity, emotional sensitivity and intuition.
Now this can be very amusing to entertain, but only until you look higher and realise those same stars are limiting my own believed capacity. I am water and therefore, NOT fire. Fire is associated with passion, drive and expression and to be indirectly told that I hold no capacity for such things have been damaging for some time (For context, I was raised in a very astrological household so I was told these things during my upbringing). I have been told my entire life that I am only water and have no capability to be fire and yet, during this year, I have never felt more aflame in my life and have proved wrong what was once out of each because of this given and prophetic characteristic. Even in my most recent writing, I have often used the concept of fire because it has meant so much to me.
The truth of the matter is, that anyone have a capacity of almost anything: I can be set aflame as I drive projects forth, fall in love again and again and even engaging in my passions. When you see me dance you might even see my skirt twirling with flames at the end, but I can also be earthy as I always seek the comfort of a stable plan and the comfort of a home to return to stability and comfort, to have a home to turn to. As much as I am earth I am air as I love new adventures and being whisk away by the unknown before the mundane leads to insanity. Water is of course part of me as well with my creativity and emotional outlet of writing and suddenly these elemental divisions feel silly.. people move and change into anything depending on millions of things. Every blink, breath, heartbeat and experience changes us constantly that labelling fixated things feels more like digging a predestined deathbed instead of allowing personas to evolve and be a multitude of things.
I remember that at that same bar I thought to myself; what would happen if all of those words didn’t exist? One could argue that it would simply make the conversation less effective, but I would like to argue on the contrary. That simplicity damages dialog. Labelling can put complex exchanges into neatly packaged boxes to the point that you slap a sticker on something before even giving a moment of speculation or wonder. I believe that without these easy organisers, the conversation would have to be more centred around the individuals emotions in whatever way it can be expressed – instead of immediately seeking that instant understanding and fix. It sort of looses all of the poetry in people.. and what a sad thing that is. Taking these devices with a grain of salt sounds like the best way to live, never leaning too closely to it unless you want to end up at the bottom of the ocean because you are “just water”.
As always, would love to hear your thoughts and even critique to my own thoughts <3 Also please excuse the brief hiatus I had, but now I’m back and plan on writing tons!
