Today’s run views from Windy Hill Open Space Preserve.
If only I’d known that all the lessons from 2017 when I quit my full-time clinical dietitian job were preparing me for this current COVID-19 chapter. The importance of creating deliberate structure (and space to play) for both productivity and creativity. The ability to find adventure in local trails and neighborhoods (back in 2017 it was due to living lean, while now it’s due to travel restrictions from SIP). Dealing with uncertainty. Living alone and learning how to self-soothe in moments of anxiety and fear.
I reread old journals dating back from 2016 this past weekend in an effort to Marie Kondo an entire bookshelf of journals. There were many pages that didn’t ‘spark joy’ and I did my best to highlight and pull pages to keep for future poems and writing pieces and recycle the rest. Journaling everyday since 2013 has become a way for me to hold up the mirror and look inward whether I wanted to or not. It’s also provided clues to my next steps.
In 2016 after I had coached my first client I wrote, “I left our session feeling so alive. THIS IS THE WORK I’M MEANT TO DO IN THE WORLD. Promise to always remember this feeling. This is my true calling.” It was the first time I felt a strong visceral sense of my purpose. It was a signpost guiding me into the direction I was meant to head.
In another entry I wrote, “I promise to document everything so I’ll always remember.” And remember I did, as I flipped through pages recording the details of a conversation I struck up with a stranger in a cafe, who later introduced me to a mentor I’ve met with weekly for the past three years. Nothing is coincidence. Revisiting those journal pages was like meeting an old friend- someone rich with ideas and excitement but fraught with fear and massive self-doubt. Someone who embraced risk and curiosity and yet equally experienced self-loathing and closed doors.
Trust and surrender were themes throughout all those pages. If I could rewind the clock and tell myself one thing, I’d gently whisper, “You are already on the path. Get out of your own way.”
By documenting the details of our lives- even the seemingly meaningless and monotonous ones- we begin to notice the richness in our everyday lives. Themes will emerge. You may discover you have a secret desire to learn guitar, or visit Italy, or reconnect with your childhood friend. You may discover feelings you have about someone in your life. Writing puts us in touch with our intuition. With our own voice. Through writing, you meet yourself in a simple and profound way.
Over time, each entry acts as a single thread in the loom of life. Perspective and time allow us to see our lives from above, where we can fully appreciate the tapestry that our experiences have seamlessly and beautifully woven together.