Every time I opened my laptop to write my first post in the last few years, I inevitably shut it, apathetic and uninterested. My world had shifted dramatically after my divorce, and for me, I had no idea how to tie it all back together again, here, in this creative space I had made my own, in which I shared the comings and goings of that life. I didn’t care about the same things, in the same way. I knew that when I began to write again, I would be sharing through an entirely different lens and while “i” was still in there, the me now would be different than the “me” then. And so I did the work of healing my heart, of taking time for me, and only me. I didn’t date. I didn’t go out and party. I didn’t join a community organization. I didn’t tell everyone outside of my closest what I was up to. I didn’t even travel the world doing interesting things. I did my work in design and business consulting, and I enjoyed it. I raised my kids and went to therapy and learned how to forgive myself and love myself…really, truly love myself. I treasured the few in my life that I trusted, and I went in. All the way inside. To become healthy. To become whole in an entirely new way. To explore this beautiful, fragile thing called life and what it all means to me, now, in this new knowing.
And I didn’t write.
I needed the time for myself. I needed to step away from sharing what I thought about everything, and what we were doing every single day on social media. I needed the quiet. And bonus: I was afraid that my new self wouldn’t really translate. I’d shifted from what I would consider more religious, to more spiritual. I meditate now, for crying out loud. I’d stopped worrying about things that I heard in so many conversations around me. What color the dishes were just didn’t matter anymore. And love…oh, my take on love, and God and energy and the universe and the road to transformation…it was entirely new. And still, I sometimes would find it insanely difficult to relate deeply to many people anymore. I knew I couldn’t share much fluff. I knew I would need to be brutally honest for writing to feel authentic for me.
So what would I share? How could I?
As the magic of creative work tends to do, sometime, about 6 months ago, the gnawing came back. The desire to do what I know is in my bones to do was steadily beating down the cobwebs in my brain and tugging at my heart to take the leap…all over again. I had been doing what so many of us are forced or choose to do. I had been in waiting.
Don’t get me wrong. The waiting was painful, but it was needed, beautiful, and purposeful. I’ve heard the waiting described as a runway. I’d been on a runway this last 3 years, letting the universe and God shape me into the new form I would take on. Becoming, little by little, until just recently, I reached the end of my runway. And that’s life. One series of runways after another, each preparing you for the invitation and opportunity that could come next. And so here I am. Not really “ready.” But going for it again, nonetheless.
Here’s the thing. I used to write because I had things to say. Now, though, I will write because I long for connection. And despite the temptation to believe I can’t relate anymore, I will tell that voice to back the hell off and try anyway. I will say a simple prayer: That these words I touch may be used, for myself or for someone else. I read The Four Agreements not too long ago, and the picture painted of how words are used for good or evil, and the power they possess resonated so deeply.
Words are magic.
So this is why I write. To connect. To do what I know inside me I was meant to do. Because I have to. Because I must. It might look different than it used to, for those of you who are still here in this space we previously shared. You’ll hear a different perspective from me than before. And yet, sometimes I would imagine it will feel like nothing shifted at all. And alllll of that..however it looks…will just be okay. If you’re out there, whoever you are, I can make you this promise. This place will be sacred for me. It will be real. It will be honest. And I can only hope, it will be a place for you to feel connection in the same way I’d love to. From one misfit to another.
This writing, this sharing, this space, it is not just for me. In fact, it isn’t about me at all. This…this is for all of us. For all of our becoming.