scribblechic

The past week has been a whirlwind of emotions. An unhappy argument that lead to an honest unraveling. Tiny earthquakes of the spirit.

Sad and angry, I pulled away from the places I normally find comfort and looked inward more closely for strength. My vision obscured by a new foothold, I saw myself in choices that reflected places of need that demanded change.

For all my many blessings and joy, there was room for more. A word I previously chose to name the year.

How far had I fallen in my distraction that this word was lost in my daily attention? Suddenly alert and eager, this word was like manna to an achy spirit.

I drew myself closely to the table and began demanding more, of and for, myself.

I had become stagnant in my self-care. Deferring choices to a status quo and squandering the preciousness of each moment with hesitation. Fully awake in this reality I dared to engage chance.

It was this day that I hurriedly scribbled a resume and cover letter into reality, tempting fate to challenge my intentions. A change that I had come to fear became a lifeline to a forgotten self.

I immediately reached out for necessary references and let loved one’s stand beside me in my action, honoring the fragility of this new possibility with transparency of intention.

Then, just when the busyness of my normal weekday routines dared me to sweep momentum beneath distractions, I bought an interview outfit and challenged fate to call me.

I started looking at those around me less as dependents of my attention and more as capable caretakers. I began conversations with my children that outlined places where they might mature into acts of greater support.

I even embraced small gestures of whimsy, signing up for a frivolous message from an uncertain Universe so that I would have a happy message to begin my day. A playful plan for the mornings I would need encouragement.

It was in this same mindset that I acted on an idea a friend shared; a link to network with other writers. Here, again, I enlisted chance with determination; recognizing that if I could leap into change to be of service to others, then I could also demand a space of  passion for myself.

For the past week, each day has begun with yes. I have moved toward every affirmation with a stubborn, blind love.

Then, today, rejection came. A polite form letter informing me that another candidate was awarded the opportunity I sought for myself. I could tell you that this moment undermined my confidence, that I doubted my ability and curled inward. It is what I might have felt only a week ago, but no is not so painful when the work is not intimately tied to self.

More importantly, failure is intricately linked to success; we cannot learn, grow, evolve without uncomfortable risk. I failed in this early endeavor, but I succeeded in moving past anxiety, fear, and doubt to make that first uncertain step towards change.

I don’t know what comes next, I only know I’m tired of standing still. I want to dance the little girl open-armed twirls of my heart song.