“Look to where you want to go and the body will follow.”
Today I was asked by my new coach to write about where I want to be in a year. “What do you want to be wearing? What do you want to be journaling? What do you want to be talking to your friends about? Get specific!” she urged me. Even though I enjoy daydreaming about the future, I find it difficult to do much planning.
2017 has so far been a year of adventures mixed with a healthy dose of reality.
In January I explored West Texas and hiked hidden trails through Big Bend.
In February I joined my soul sisters on a voyage into the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua.
In March I chose to participate in American society again. I said goodbye to a writing gig that had allowed me to travel and work my own hours. Why would I do such a thing? Well, I hit a wall. The computer screen became an abyss. When I conducted research, I would often space out, my mind wandering between my adventures and losses from the past. The same thing happened when I was writing content. I felt like I was moving slower than molasses and the words stopped flowing. Granted, I had been following the same formula to generate content for so long that it started to feel like I was repeating myself. And I longed for human interaction. So I started dancing more regularly and I made some job changes, a few times…
I worked on a farm:
I catered events, like the PGA Golf Tournament:
And as event catering grew more exhausting I began to explore other jobs, like working as a nanny:
April showed me some truths about my finances. You mean I can’t travel to Nicaragua to teach yoga, spend hundreds of dollars on training, supplies and gas AND make a profit as a teacher?!?! Apparently not. It’s not like I was trying to make money last year. What was I trying to do last year? Hell if I know. When you start the year off with a broken foot it sure does cast a shadow on the months to follow. I certainly had my celebratory moments, but I ended up living below the poverty level, getting myself into more debt, losing my mind and scattering myself across the country simply because I didn’t want to be tied down. Hooray for the adventurous spirit that got me into one of the biggest messes I have ever made. Thank God 2016 is over.
A year from today, what do I want my life to be like? I know I want to be talking to my friends about our latest projects, planning retreats and women’s circles. I want to have a dog nestled at my feet as I journal about love, travel and dreams for the future. I want to be wearing my favorite red cut off shorts, a tank top and sandals with undergarments that make me feel sexy. Yes, even if I have no fucking clue what I will be doing, I can clearly picture what I will be wearing! The rest of the details look like an ocean right now. I see the patterns of the tide rolling to shore, but I can’t see past the horizon. I can’t see what’s underneath the waves.
I want to write. I want to teach. I want a garden. I want balance in every aspect of my life. But I have to get more specific. And I have to be honest with myself. I started reading The Yamas & Niyamas: Exploring Yoga’s Ethical Practice by Deborah Adele. Satya is truthfulness. Adele talks of the fluidity, weight and power of truth.
“When we run from life, try to manage life, or leave our energy scattered here and there, we feel differently than when our whole self shows up with our thoughts, words, and actions congruent and unified. When we are centered in the moment, we can fully meet the ordinariness of life as well as the challenges…”
Balance within our internal and external worlds starts with living honestly. My soul will always crave the wild spirit of Nicaragua with all of the wonderful, inspiring people who live there. But if I’m truly honest with myself, even if I did relocate there as I have envisioned over the past couple of years, I would have a different career from teaching yoga. And I’m really not sure I would want to be a travel writer. So I’m taking on this challenge, committing to sharing more often with my readers. Let’s see where this road takes me.