That time I shed my own skin

I’ve been trying to put the last three months into words. It isn’t easy because I am still processing experiences and learning from them. I am shedding my own skin and my own mind frame of beliefs and certainties. However, this time, I’m not quoting any philosophical theory to support my feelings. I tend to be too cerebral. That is one of the things that, as well as embracing it, I’m trying to mutate into a more sensitive way of approaching life.

I think of a snake shedding its skin because I would say the same has happened to me in the past five years. The shedding occurs because it no longer fits. When snakes grow older, their skin doesn’t, so they outgrow it.

My old self no longer fits, and now, I’m ready to become and celebrate a new person. A being who is still learning how to walk and see the world. It made me think of the Uroboros, “the tail-devourer”, the “infinite”, one of my favourite symbols, and the best way to recreate rebirth, renewal, reinvention.

Yet, I’m not new. I wouldn’t say that. I am the same but I don’t feel the same. I am just getting rid of all the layers that no longer suit me. A rough path of forgiving and forgetting. It also involves death in a symbolic and celebratory way. The end of an old set of beliefs and expectations of my role in my life and the life of others.

During the past three months in Berlin –a city that I can call home now–, I learned how to live day by day.  To deal with sleepless nights and to enjoy morning coffees. To step into the unknown. The beauty of sad trees. The privilege of reflexive walks. The pristine light that surrounded my building. The raspy calls of crows. My good and bad days.  And, most importantly, how not let despair and my dark matter take over me. Instead, it has become the fuel for my artistic process. La nada is my muse.

I made friends, and I gave myself the license to be open to everything new, as frightening and overwhelming as it sounds. I also brought my artistic self to be scrutinised and criticised, releasing ego tears. I’ve reclaimed that space, too, as a powerful exorcism.

Today, I saw my reflection in the mirror, and I wanted to express my gratitude for this ongoing process through this short text accompanied by some images and a playlist.

Thank you for being here.

Published by Cherry Adam

Moody experimentalist. Hypersensitive & Noir moments Poetry, Essays & Sound Experimentation Freelance Music Journalist

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