How will you start the journey?
Kat writes: What sort of trust would this require?
When she asks if I would say the things I tell myself to a small child, I realize I’m incredibly mean to myself and tell myself things I wouldn’t tell my friends or children. It’s time to stop the negative self-talk once and for all, even if that has been an ongoing intention that fails time and again. I have a vision in my head of how things should unfold, and then life reminds me every single time that things progress at their own rate. I compare myself to others who have gone from zero to six figures in less than a year, meanwhile I feel like I’m over here chasing my tail. I want to get out of the hamster wheel and start feeling like I’m living — like I’m actually going somewhere and moving forward. I guess I need to start appreciating what I have instead of pining for what’s missing. I need to trust that things will work out as they always seem to do and take it much easier on myself.
What if there was no need to wait until you’re “perfectly formed”?
Kat writes: What if what you are doing right now was actually your destination? What would that mean for your journey?
I remember when I first started out here, I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to write and enjoy my life. Eventually my motives morphed into providing offerings, which have begun as tutoring. I only recently decided that I don’t want to take on pre-college students — it just doesn’t feel like the work I’m meant to do. It only took one student for me to realize that I’m not comfortable with tutoring English as a second language, either. I want to go further with my tutoring and consult with professionals, but I haven’t made it there yet. Right now, I’ve got a steady student, a steady full time job, and a steady stream of house work. The idea that this is my actual destination terrifies me, honestly. And yet, I also wonder if attempting to inspire others to join me on a quest to make our lives feel fulfilling is the actual destination. Regardless, I think what this means for my journey is that I don’t have to sit down here to write the greatest story ever told — I just have to show up and allow my words to find their place in the world. In the end, I think I just want to have my voice heard when I feel like I’ve got something worth sharing.
Fast forward a year…
Kat writes: You have my word of honour there will be glorious surprises.
A love note to myself, you say? Truth be told, I’m planning to be back in Florida at this time next year. I miss my family, and I’d like to get closer to them. Also, I haven’t seen the growth my family needs with the resources available to us in this area. Sure, I’ve grown heavily attached to several people while living in Georgia, but I’m just not into this place. And while the thought of leaving behind four seasons once again fills me with regret and sadness, I know that this is the right plan. So in thinking from one year later in the sunshine state, here’s what one-year-older-me has to say to present-me:
Write. Sit down, clear your mind, and just be. Yes, things have gotten rough. The “struggle” has been “real.” But take a deep breath. Look inside yourself. Look at all that you have accomplished. Trust me. When you get here, you’re going to be just fine. Just give yourself a chance. Drink your water. Eat your fruits and veggies. Avoid gluten, lactose, soy, and sugar. Quit abusing caffeine. If you’re tired, take a nap. Call it an early night. No one else gets to decide how you live your life. Don’t let them tell you to “sleep when you’re dead” or “just one bite isn’t going to hurt you” — or even worse, “I know you want to!” You are a 30-year-old woman! You are strong and intelligent, and you have a wonderful grasp of the English language — use that that pretentious English to tell them off. Keep walking your own path. Do the work that lights you up. Even if your work doesn’t pay the bills, it’s worth it to feel like you’re doing what you’re meant to do.