There's never going to be a right time, except today...

January 10, 2020

I'm taking a gamble. I'm taking a risk. I'm running the chance that I could end up right back where I began, broken, unhealed, depressed and unhappy. It's a risk I'm ready to take because the alternative is something I can't live with any longer. I deserve to heal, to be right in my own skin, heart and mind. We all do, even if it's only fleeting because that's all we can really ask for each day, isn't it?

How I got here is something I share only because it helps to hear it and say it out loud, to acknowledge that it actually happened and that I didn't dream it. I also know, it's not uncommon, it happens to so many of us, and it helps to give it a voice so we know we don't have to weather it alone.

Right now the voice in my head is pleading, "Don't do it!" But this morning when I got up out of bed, I had already made up my mind. I just woke up and shook the anxiety because the fear that comes with it has ruled me too long and I realize that fear is what's causing my exhaustion, fear is what is tightening my breath, fear is what is coloring my vision with unrealistic thoughts that I don't deserve to feel better. And that's just some crazy bullshit.

So I won't sugar-coat it. This is my story. Just know, it's not my entire story. The rest of that is up to me.

I had love, it just came with an expiration. It often does. The difficult part comes when the two of you realize it doesn't fit anymore, like a coat you've outgrown, and no matter how many ways you try to force it on, it just doesn't fit. It's time to give it up and acknowledge it was a nice coat that kept you warm and safe as long as it could, but it's destined for other things, or maybe a rack at the local Goodwill where some other chump will find it.

I've also had a modicum of success. For the last 22 years, I've lived in a beautiful, lush playground of forest and ocean, coming into my own, feeding the creative beast that rules my spirit and making a life for myself doing what I want, not what society or tradition often tells young women they should do. That has been a luxury I don't regret. My independence, my freedom, my ability to call the shots is something most dream of but don't often get the right or the chance to exercise. Has it made me rich? Not by a longshot. Has it given me the stability I crave? Sometimes. Will it allow me to leave a legacy? Yes, but not in the traditional ways. I hope people remember how I helped them or took a minute to truly listen. I hope the wisdom I shared with people I touched will perhaps get shared with someone else.

The things I have loved doing, that are essentially my gifts, are the things that will continue to shine through me no matter what I do for a living, where I choose to do it and how many dollars it makes me. This is the truth I'm discovering, slowly, when I allow myself to get out of my own way and take credit for all that I've been, and where I've been, and all that is next to come. Despite also surrendering to a career path that didn't suit me anymore, I am not the insecurities or the self-imposed shortcomings I have led myself to believe that I am just because I'm at a crossroads to what lies ahead for me next. It's easy to fall into that abyss of self-doubt, but most days it's better to pour that energy into the things that feed you and propel you one step closer to what's supposed to be.

And, lastly, and perhaps most importantly, is the whole reason I am doing this, for my father and all those loved ones I have lost, whether by design or their own making, and all those, myself included, who endure a life of sorrow and suffering, oftentimes much longer than we need to. There is so much pain and suffering we will endure in our lifetimes, no matter how long or how short we get to be here. Pain is pain, no matter how it looks. Suffering is no picnic either. But my stubborn, empathetic heart refuses to accept that we don't deserve to be treated with respect and dignity and much, much kindness, whether from our friends and family, medical professionals or even our own selves, when we say we are hurting and in pain. We feel sad when we see a beautiful deer lying in the road after it gets hit by a car, but somehow our own human pain is something to hide, mask, pretend does not exist just to not inconvenience those around us. This is also some crazy bullshit.

We are living, breathing, feeling creatures and we need to know we are not in this alone. Fear of feeling alone is death, death to our spirit, death to our psyche, death to our hope. I will always wish I could have done more to ease my father's pain and suffering while he waited out death those final, lonely days in a nursing home, but a disease like Parkinson's will always have the upperhand. While I still am here on this earth, the most I can hope for is to love me and take care of my very essence that connects me to this world. It is my hope that I can create a space that demonstrates how we can love ourselves and others at our very lowest points just as equally as we can love ourselves when we emerge and find our peaks of stability and joy. We are the makers of our own happiness, and sometimes, we just want peace, quiet or contentment and that's okay, too.

I don't believe there is a magic pill for what ails us. Doctors don't know everything. They get sick and experience pain, too. Maybe some of us just need to find hope, okay, and maybe a little medication, but mostly we just need to reconnect with that place we know is deep within us that helps us to keep going another day. I sincerely believe we are our own biggest and proven serums to good health, we just have to find what matters and follow the path it carves out for us.

What if you woke up and realized the one day, that faraway life you had always envisioned you'd walk into was right here staring you in the face? Here's the beautiful secret: That day and that life is here, right now, today and every single day you choose it to be. Now what are you going to do with it?