When You’re Overwhelmed, Love Is Not Optional — She’s the Answer
I feel like I have so much time, and feel like I have none. And so I breathe. Deep breath in. Slower breath out. And with each breath, my confidence grows.
I feel like I have so much time, and feel like I have none. And so I breathe. Deep breath in. Slower breath out. And with each breath, my confidence grows.
What if I had enough in the bank? Would I need to wait to move until I found a job, or could I just move?! I knew the answer when I asked the question.
I heard the drip of rain. At my 11 o’clock, running water. At my 9 o’clock, birds communicating. And between all of those noises, I heard stillness.
Love is the clanging of cymbals when there is none—loud in absence and full in its presence. We don’t get to dictate love. This isn’t a movie we direct.
Hair falls from my head like leaves fall off trees and petals fall off flowers. Shedding—letting go—one of the most natural parts of nature.
I decided that surely love—God herself!—lowkey, highkey?!— most definitely is autistic! Because hooow could she be so literal and giving and generous and unintentionally (?) but actively hiiiiiiilarious?
There’s no need to let go of the past or the future because I hold it all now. The DNA of my ancestors still course within me. Closer to me than I am to myself. In this moment, my future is made.
Love is in the willingness. It’s the courage that says, ‘I can do this thing I’ve never done before.’ Love is in the readiness. It’s the courage that says, ‘I can learn the thing I’ve never been taught.’
Uncle Ralph died at 67—retirement age. I used to think, ‘I can’t wait to move abroad when I retire.’ Now I know: I can’t afford to wait to live. I don’t want anyone to learn who I am at my funeral. I want to be known now.”
I’m leaving the U.S. Not to flee, but to free. Freedom isn’t free. It’s costing me something—the familiar, the known.