There are times when I want to claw my skin off. 

Not necessarily to get rid of the skin that I wear but more so to release what I feel is trapped inside. 

I have found that words cannot properly express what it is that I’m trying to convey, and because of that I feel imprisoned. 

The human language has limited us in so many different aspects of our lives but mostly when it comes to self expression and trying to relate to others. 

In 2017, I took a meditation course that was described metaphorically as enduring brain surgery. This meant taking a vow of silence for 10 days and sitting in meditation for 10 hours every day.

We were encouraged (and instructed) to peel back layers and expose different levels of trauma, pain, passion, and pieces of our lives that have been (intentionally and unintentionally) buried by the rat race of every day movements. It was, by far, one of the most intense experiences of my life because during that dissection I was left with the rawness of being a human. I was facing wounds that I had tried so hard to bury, and scabs that I swore were scars. I was digging through the murky memories that were locked inside thick and sensitive skin begging to hit bone, but it was no where to be found.

Dreams were contorted to expose what I was hiding from. Ancestors met me in the meditation room.I saw red.My fists clenched as I sobbed and sighed and sweat. My body shook and convulsed as it was trying to escape from the repressed pain. I was deeply exposed and then all began to drop away. 

I learned that we hold countless identities that were built up around phases of our life that we no longer associate with. 

And we tend to wear them as if they are a badge of honor, even if it hurts.

Even if that badge no longer defines what we’re capable of, who we were, who we are, what we stand for, or who we want to be. 

Perhaps we cling to these identities to avoid the pain of breaking down. Or maybe we grab onto this idea of “do more, do better” to keep us away from taking an honest look at ourselves.

But even still, all of these life-altering moments live trapped within our bodies and we are left to tell our BIG stories with average words.

So when I say I want to claw my skin off it’s because I want to strip it down to familiarity. 

I want to strip it down to something that everyone can understand and something that everyone can grasp without negating the magnitude of the experience.

And when I say I’m trapped it’s because I feel locked within a language that doesn’t allow me to truly let you in. 

I search for pretty terms, fancy lingo, proper grammar, and phrases that have depth because that’s only a sneak peek of the intensity that I’m experiencing. 

When we use the mediocre language that we’ve been given, we’re left with a mediocre feeling – a feeling that doesn’t quite speak to your heart.

And even if you’re living a life that you believe to be as mediocre, please know this: we are far from mediocre beings, we’re just limited to a language that keeps us in stuck in place. 

Truth is that there are no words, no scars, no pictures, and no platform that can truly define or capture the story that we’re all trying to tell. 

The story is what keeps us all connected but also this story is what forces division. 

On some level we all feel trapped, like we can’t relate to those around us, and this is what keeps us from truly experiencing each other. 

But if we were able to just step out of our skin and stand in nothing but bone, words wouldn’t even be necessary because we are relatable by nature.

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