About today: the rain is as hard as my heart is heavy. Physically I’m perfectly comfortable and safe and free, but transition is all around and it’s not emotionally comfortable.
It’s the first day of the Year of the Wood Horse and a new moon.
A month into my ‘unicorn’ leave, and it’s been a trip. I just extended it one month, with no idea how I’m going to pay rent in March. I want to have complete faith (I know I’ll be okay) but I’m really scared, too (I want to be so much more than okay).
I wrote this article the other day, and shared this last week, both of which were somewhat controversial topics. They generated a lot of discussion which to me is — well, that’s pretty much the most important thing.
Spreading awareness, getting people talking, changing people’s perspectives, helping others understand things. This is a big deal.
So here I am, fulfilling my purpose. I should be happy but I feel really strange and exposed right now.
I’m floating in the middle of an ocean and there is no shore and nothing to hold onto. Some days I’m happy as a clam, floating on my back and being warmed by the sun. Others I’m flailing around and feeling helpless. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to stay afloat.
For me, writing is this weirdly painful necessity. It’s not always painful, of course, but it’s such a strange thing to have it be such a deep part of my life.
I feel like a fraud, but how can this be when really all I care about is being real and helping others be real and here I am doing just that?
Wonderful ladies night last night for miss MoJo’s birthday (so much love in that room), preceded by unicorn stampede on the weekend, a one-year-old’s birthday party, a lovely goodbye party, a last-supper date.
My best friend is heading to El Salvador for this. I’m so super proud and happy for her.
And he’s leaving. This very moment he sits at the airport and I can’t even stand talking to him because I feel too much.
And that’s not my life; none of these moments define my life. I may be feeling heavy today: sad, a bit angry, scared. But that doesn’t mean I’m sitting around feeling sorry for myself.
I’m doing everything I can to move forward, move through it, to face it and then step outside myself.
Last year I tasted possibility; this year I’m going into it, and I’m going hard.