It’s 5:35 am and I’m awake. I don’t feel like I slept at all last night. My mind is racing with thoughts, ideas, plans — the knowingness that the pieces are coming together to create my “good”.
About a year and a half ago, I remember lying awake in the same position, terrified. I was terrified I would collapse because my finances were a disaster; that I would never find work again; and that I was destined to be alone on the planet for the rest of my long, miserable life.
I kept thinking, “I can’t go on like this. I can’t go on like this.” But I had no idea what to do.
Maybe six months later, I had a new job and a new boyfriend; my debt was consolidated and the people around me had breathed a sigh of relief because I had finally settled down. The problem was I was miserable and it wasn’t the miserable that comes from change, or the miserable that comes from self-sabotage, at which I’d also become skilled over the years. I knew myself well enough to know that this wasn’t my life. It felt like a pair of pants that didn’t fit. Sure, it was slightly less embarrassing than camel toe and perhaps more age-appropriate, but it still wasn’t mine.
I remember sitting on a friend’s sofa, crying hysterically after I left my job, “Why can’t I just be like everyone else? It was a steady job, a paycheck? Why did I hate it so much? Why wasn’t I more grateful? Why do I have to keep throwing myself to the edge?”.
There’s only one thing that’s different between the me, now and the me, then: mindset.
I’m thinking about different things.
I started thinking about all the things I wanted my life to be — material, spiritual, and experiential — and then I did something huge, I stopped judging them.
They’re not good or bad; they’re just mine.
The desires that knock on my heart are there for a reason. I believe that they’re part of my higher purpose and a divine plan. I understand that the pain, indecision, fear and chaos was happening in my life because I was living on the edge, on the edge of my dreams.
Now that I’ve allowed them to wash over my thoughts and into my life in all of their big, bold possibility, I’m not drowning. In fact, it’s the opposite, my pain has stopped and the space it’s left behind has created room for tiny steps to make their way in. It’s like suddenly I see that all of my experience, my values, my personal mission, everything has been designed to create this amazing life plan that is all, mine.
I don’t really have time for anything else, especially no time to think about other people’s judgments. These days, those just seem to roll off of me, back onto them, where they belong.
I’m too busy, living.
What about you? What’s knocking on your heart? Why aren’t you listening?