Growth and the trouble of intellectualizing

I didn’t do much yesterday other than reread Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and eat.  It was a “give my brain the day off” day.  I find that I need those every once in a while.  But as the evening grew my thoughts became all abuzz with heightened activity, and I started writing.  There was an excitement in the air that I felt I needed to capture somehow.  I sensed that something was different now.  As I journaled about the past week and processed everything that had happened and was happening, I drew my awareness in to myself and noted what felt almost like a physiological change. But it wasn’t physiological. Though, it was clear that something in my inner make up was very different.  Was more fluid almost.  I tried to figure out when this change had begun and my thoughts immediately went back to the ideas that had sparked my previous post here.  It was when I had seen – truly seen – the Patriarchy.

I began to see that my identity was, once more, experiencing a major shift.  This time, I know, I am beginning to understand what it really means to be a woman.  My thoughts leaped back to models of identity development, and I easily identified where I was.  It was at this point that the situation became a little odd.  I was intellectualizing my own shift in identity.  I realize that this entire blog seems to be oriented toward that task, but that’s not entirely true.  I struggled for a moment and it became obvious to me that being able to intellectualize something can be very dangerous.  I think it can actually prohibit growth and development.  I think that’s one of the many problems adults face and one of the many reasons they stop growing as people – they can explain it away.  And so now I find myself questioning, How do I stop myself from examining my life right now under a microscope but still maintain a level of introspection and reflection about what I’m experiencing?

One thing seems certain.  The feeling that overwhelmed me last night when I first began writing was that of heading in the right direction.  It was a clicking, a coming together of energy that felt good, that I knew intuitively was necessary for me to have in order to go where I need to go and do what it is I’m supposed to do.


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