What’s all this gypsy business, anyway?
“I’m channeling my inner gypsy today,” I wrote in Sunday’s post. And I thought I might provide an explanation to that phrase (which thereby provides an explanation for the name of my blog, too).
At times, I feel a lack of space, a lack of breathing room. I have felt this way for entire seasons of life, for one day out of a week, or sometimes just for a few minutes in my day. But this ominous feeling arrives with all sorts of toxic thinking in tow, and there I am, longing for some freedom.
Some of you, too, know what it’s like to feel plagued . . . by shame, fear, worry, insecurity, anger. Some of us are plagued by food or alcohol, shopping or our body image. Some of us our plagued by this notion that life is just ahead of us, real living is around the bend, and we’ll someday arrive at life. Some of us are plagued by this almost obsessive re-inventing of ourselves, over and over. Some of us are plagued by a very general, always present, dis-ease.
The plague often manifests in self-contempt.
So we churn. We numb. We feel sidelined. We feel small . . . like we’re living in a postage stamp worth of emotional space.
This idea of the gypsy has helped me. Through my imagination, I can see an image of this being who is alive and free. Unencumbered. Well. Whole. And, on the good days, I can believe that this gypsy is in me. In all of us. Waiting to be unleashed. Waiting to be channeled. Waiting to be claimed.
The gypsy is the freest me, the being that isn’t haunted by or subject to these plagues. She has found a way—through God, through her life rhythm, through her community—to live well.
I believe a brave gypsy lives inside each one of us. Not just the fantasy. Not just the effortless caftan—effectively accessorized—with the loose curls, jangling bracelets, and bold lip color. Not just her, though she sounds amazing, actually.
But, the you that is full of zeal, a beating heart, fire-in-the-belly, showing up to life, amazingly and abundantly free. This gypsy is not tethered to shame or self-sabotage. She is gentle and yet brazen. She understands how to decompress without numbing, rest without isolating.
Even though we will fumble and stumble our way toward this inner gypsy, even though we’ll get it wrong some days, even though we will probably always be a gypsy-in-training, we will commit to going in search of him/her, the wild-eyed beauty within. Alive and free.
So, my fellow gypsies-in-training, be brave in your day today. Don’t let the plagues have the last word. Believe that spacious living is possible.
What is something that helps you find freedom from the plagues?
