The French have a term that means “such is life” or “when things don’t go accordingly.” It’s called C’est la vie.
Now, I have used this term for years and I thought it meant “see ya later!”
It sounds like “Se la vee”—C’est la vie!
I was wrong. But maybe, subconsciously, I was building up a callous to the things of life when they don’t go accordingly. Such is life. Zoë explains it pretty well in this song titled C’est la Vie.
It didn’t make sense. I was not lacking in confidence, I didn’t think. I felt like I was quite secure in myself. I was pretty sure of that—I felt comfortable in my body, happy with myself professionally, and I honestly enjoyed time with just me. I was happy with me being Emilee.
Then why all of the clashing? I noticed this trend in myself, that when I entered a relationship I would completely leave behind the girl I loved. Me.
It was never my partner's fault. They were simply interested in me and wanted to know more, but my creative free self was a scary place to be vulnerable. I've spent many sunsets on highways listening to instrumental music and feeling completely happy. Overwhelmed with joy and laughter.
Would they accept all the real parts of me? How I feel anxious in crowds? In social situations, I often want to leave out the back door and sit with my own thoughts. I want to drink wine and ponder philosophy. I want to go for long walks and think about the height of the trees and their root systems beneath. I want to feel a rush in my heart and goosebumps on my skin; the feeling of dying within to be reborn again.
I want to dream of traveling to the multiple layers of waterfalls over bridges in Thailand and taste the mountain spring water in Utah. To walk the trek of ancient spiritual seekers in Nepal. To bare my soul to a world too complex for the simple big bang theory.
To unwrap the layers of my ribs, and show my pain to someone who doesn’t even speak my language. To put my hand on my heart, and a hand on theirs. To taste, to see, to feel, to challenge, to experience, to write, to create, to be free, and all at once live the life of the woman I am called to be.
Oh, sorry - too much?
My friend, Jonna, reminds me: "Don't you dare UN-MUCH yourself. You are much, my sweet, and don't you dare un-much yourself."
I went on a bike ride today and was overwhelmed with this creative flow of language. It was wild, so I turned around, went home, got into the bathtub, and recorded in natural light and water.
How do you feel when a bass drum plays? Does the djembe make you come alive? Do you think of life and wonder if it matters at all?
Don't un-much yourself.
I'm choosing, at the beautifully-unspoken age of twenty-seven, to write in the sand of my life "this is me." And then sit down and watch the tide rise to come in and wash it away. And then, I'll grieve again. And again. Until my soul is refined like precious metals in a fire. Like stealing music from Limewire. I'm a spirit on loan within this gentle and cool earth.
If you resonate with this, simply smile and feel warmth in your heart, wherever you are - I'll feel it.
// much love // em