As I write this, I am flying. I am returning “home”
Never mind the many “I am so excited you are coming home!” messages I received prior to my arrival in New York.
Home is, for the first time, Puerto Rico.
However, nothing is definitive and while I cringe at the unpacking of the boxes I just shipped making UPS $460 richer, I feel rather nimble and okay with life changing directions at any moment, even should it be the near future. I embrace the freedom and am grateful for it. It, a huge departure from the depths of feeling “stuck.” Those feelings were once my truth- once my world, the world where depression was what I knew and thought normal. The unyielding illness that plagued me was simply an appendage, a part of me.
I started this flight with reading a book that was left on my bed by my colleague, my friend, the person who unzipped me on Thursday evening, and no, not sexually so. A conversation over wine- raw, with criticism, observations and honesty. How fortunate I am to have such a person in my life. I am still trying to digest the traits undressed. At some point, I will reflect . . . perhaps.
The book is “Way of the Peaceful Warrior, a book that changes lives” by Dan Millman.
I am only 80 pages in. But, chords are being struck. An unquiet mind. Restless. Not at ease. A love of a sport, adrenaline, sex and drink. “It gave me a blessed respite from my noisy mind. When I was swinging and somersaulting, nothing else mattered. When my body was active, my mind rested in the moments of silence.”
I relate too well. The book is taunting me. The pages to follow will disrupt and create unease, make me question, reflect –and know that it is too easy to be on the wrong path. I welcome this.
For now, I am, for the first time in years, unhinged. I don’t have employees depending on me, I stopped supporting my mother, my overhead is manageable, and my ego grants me the ability to believe I can do whatever I want, sans the proper schooling. (Yes, doubt in succeeding in such a leap still exists.) Regardless, I am light. Poised to pivot.
As I was reading, I thought of someone. I wanted to tell them to read this. And then, I stopped. I recalled my own moments of putting books down. Moments in which I wasn’t capable or ready to be confronted with the message (and not on grounds of disagreement.) Simply. I felt at those times incapable of applying the lesson to be learned. I felt my someone would have this reaction.
These times, I was stuck. Had too much invested. Too many hours. Too many responsibilities. Ill-equipped and unable to change. No proper background. No safety net. No support. So, I stayed. Persisted.
Luckily, life helped me. It killed that of which I was holding together. Rock bottom. Amazing how disasters are gifts. It put an end to that of what I should have myself ended. This has happened numerous times. And for this I trust all things that happen. All things that are hard, I know are the makings of my journey to the fulfilled me. Sometimes, I wonder though if my life is testing me now. Testing me to change without force. And to that, I am unsure. Perhaps, an unrealized fear.