my most recent exploration of self, spanning the last several days, has been an in-depth examination of who i really am and what i really believe. this perhaps sounds like a fairly simple endeavor, but i have found the task of separating what i think, feel, and believe from the things i have been conditioned to think, feel, and believe can sometimes be challenging. as a lifelong explorer of self, i have considerable practice herein; even so, i have found that when i delve quite deeply into who i *really* am — and, more importantly, why i am those things — the task becomes harder as i slowly peel away the layers of myself. perhaps the most difficult aspect for me to see, in these recent explorations, has been what i am *not* and why. and, in many cases, i am realizing that i actually am many of the things i previously had thought i was not. still with me?

as i continue to consider what i am and what i am not, and find that much of what i am would seem to exist in conflict with itself, i wonder — can one be a living paradox? or does the very definition of existence preclude any idea of paradox? meaning, if you just are, and you are as you are, is there really any room for paradox, or is existing as one beautiful, integrated being the whole trick to life?

i suppose
the need to focus never arose
so something like a swiss army knife
that’s my life
frankenstein had nothing on this body of mine
the villagers still flockin’ to see, to see me
breaking free, breaking free

cause i got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
stout sailor’s legs and a license to fly
i got a bartender’s ear and beachcomber’s style
piratical nerve and a vaudevillian style

i suspect i died in some cosmic shipwreck
with all hands spread all over the deck
what the heck
then some kind of obscene and unscrupulous mind
began to pick up what he could find
added ice, shook me twice, rolled the dice…

jimmy buffett

i’m going to admit something here that i’ve kept shamefully tucked away in the depths of my soul for far too long — i *love* beauty and glamour.

eep.

there it is.

in fact, as a child, i really wanted to grow up to be a makeup artist in some place really trendy, like nyc or la. makeup, fashion, beauty secrets, trends, celebrity happenings <wincing>… yep, all me.

i realized the other day, as i shamefully and discreetly bought this month’s issue of vogue, that this is a fairly unique, and admittedly humorous, affliction. let me really lay this out for you. were ashe to go buy a porn magazine from a local store, she would grab the one she wanted, walk confidently to the register to purchase it, and look at the person behind the counter with a face that said, “i’m comfortable with my choice, do you have something to say?” but buying the vogue — that was an ordeal that consisted of browsing other (more respectable) magazines to divert attention, grabbing it quickly, hugging it to my chest (cover in, of course) as i approached the register and not looking the sales clerk in the eye as i made my purchase. that is, of course, until she made a rather congenial comment about the cover. in that moment, i realized that my sense of reality, when compared to our culture as it exists presently, is fairly different from that of the mainstream masses.

i believe that shame, broadly speaking, is an utterly destructive and useless emotion and, as such, i am actively working on my issues around this. hi, i’m ashe and i have a problem. beyond that, i have been really contemplating how i can possibly exist inclusively as the immortal warrior, the granola-crunching hippie AND the girlie fashonista.

i’ve been musing about this with many of my amazing and wise friends, and here is what i’ve been able to glean from our conversations:

• i am accountable to no one
• what actually restricts me are self-imposed expectations based around my limiting beliefs about what warriors, hippies and fashonistas (etc.) “should” be
• there are ways to be glam AND green
• the whole point of life, the Universe and everything is to be precisely and fully who you are in every moment, with no need to justify anything to anyone
• the most effective female warriors are femme fatales — they are unexpected and singular, which gives them an advantage over others

there you have it.

and so, i continue to integrate.

© 2008 ashe mcbride hinnant

on the graceful exit:

there is a trick to the graceful exit, i suspect. it begins with the vision to recognize when a job, a life stage, a relationship is over, and let it go. it means leaving what’s over without denying its validity or its past importance in our lives. it involves a sense of the future, a belief that every exit is an entry; that we are moving on, rather than out. ellen goodman

as many of you know, i have always had a certain affinity for warriors of all kinds, from samurai to cowboys. in my own framework of the Universe, this affinity stems from being reincarnated as a warrior of one sort or another time and time again; i believe, though, it will suffice to say i feel a strong connection to the warrior path. recently i have begun examining myself and my life in many ways, to include the ways in which my present lifestyle supports a warrior way of thinking and living. i have found that in many ways it does not, and i have been enjoying working to reconcile the two.

my big lesson for the weekend is this: a warrior knows when to let go — and to always make a graceful exit. there are areas in my life — one in particular — that could use some letting go. i have thus far found the letting go challenging as a result of fear and pride, mostly. and there, too — a warrior does not suffer fear or pride.

and so. i am choosing now to let go. consciously. proactively. breathing through the parts that hurt the most. i suppose letting go of something is sort of like a band-aid: you only need the band-aid until your wound has healed. after that, it’s infinitely better to be without it. and, during the removal process, you still have to breathe through the parts that hurt the most.

so, this is me — making a graceful exit.

© 2008 ashe mcbride hinnant