Family. Love. Money. Alignment. Connection.

What I am trying to hand over to the fresh young year that is about to take over:

 
I must believe and accept myself and acknowledge what I am good at.
I must embrace that I work hard and play hard, and I will always give more to a company than I get.
Showing up with an abundant, joyous demeanor is so important.
Not settling for less than I know I’m worth.
Sheer space and place isn’t always enough.
Appreciating what I have and striving for more - always.
Holding boundaries in a way that celebrates my space and doesn’t prioritize others.
Standing in my integrity.
Trusting my wisdom to led me to the next step.
Giving myself grace for my choices and mistakes.
Learning and growing from both.
Rebuilding.
Laughing as much as possible.

Morning

Waking up this morning, the sounds of early spring are so hopeful. I open the blind by the chair I sip coffee in and scare the duck that’s been hanging out searching for food. He’s been showing up lately without his partner. Since there are no squirrels to be found, I’m hoping he can eat. It is chilly and Martha is out in the coop so I give the chicken some corn too. 

Now I’m sitting here trying to piece together my day and my life. I woke up feeling hopeless but the birds would not hear it. They called to each other from the trees. Their songs so light and so confident, not for one moment did they remain silent. The sprinklers hummed to life too and the traffic on a distant road. I joined the buzz. I went out into the morning and felt the cool air through my unbrushed hair. The coffee brewed, the dog stretched his bones and went back to bed. 

I will carry on like this, hoping that somehow a lighter feeling will come soon and I will be free of the weight of this mess.

The Hypothesis

I had it all but then I lost it.

Over and over.

Moments of clarity washed away fear and doubt.

Then, again, I stumbled in darkness.

My weaknesses only to be revealed and devoured by predators
too scared of their own imperfections.

But I am not a victim here.

I still have drive within me.

I do, I do, I promise myself I do.

Stored Moments

I’m thinking about how a person knits two years together. They are seamless in fact but they are definitive a measurement, created from some being long ago. We continue to agree that this is the way and yet in the silence of the morning, alone with our breath, we each know we have our own way of measuring the phases we move through.

Face the day

All at once, the dream felt ominous and overwhelming and achievable. She took in the range of emotions; each had a place in this moment. This was living: to face the day, the time she had and ask herself what to do with it?

She could lay in bed or wallow with self-pity. She could drink it away or work it out - all the calories or feelings she couldn’t dismantle with her mind. But the day would come and go no matter what. 

In this game she had the choice of how she existed within it. There was no need for large fancy homes: more space, more things. She could live in a forest or under a rock. She could desert the indoctrinated belief that money was the ultimate goal. She could travel the world or never crave a family. She could trust that evolution was happening in her and around her and that the path was never as stringent and cut as she thought. Each day was a new opportunity to show up onsight and figure out what she could do to ascend.