HONORING MY INTUITION
Last night, I was having a conversation with a friend. You know, those I'm-so-tired-it's-2am-what-am-I-actually-saying type conversations.
Without reason, I asked her, "how do I sustain myself doing things I love?"
She responded, "You don't."
You don't? Ouch.
She continued, "Because that's not how life works -- not right now anyways. You get to do what you want in retirement. Until then, you're making decisions based on how to get to the point where you can financially sustain the life you want to live."
A little harsh, a little blunt, and a LEETLE rooted in doubting the miracles of this world and a fear of risks.
But last night, I didn't even have to ask myself "is that true?". As I was reading the words, my mind and my body completely rejected them. I can live the life I want to live. I know that, I believe it, and I feel it. I'm not waiting until I retire to lead a fulfilling life. I'm too passionate to dilute my dreams in exchange for a conventional life. My time to live out my version of joy will always be today.
I know living that life, a life that makes me want to cry tears of joy, will take work, a lot of faith, and a lot of risks. But I'm ready. I feel so passionate. I feel called to pursue all these dreams of mine. I've felt this before, but I've been too scared to listen. It's time to, though; I honor my intuition.
Everyone else I know that is living the life I envision for myself, started somewhere. This moment is my somewhere.
This is silly. I feel crazy for thinking it and being as excited as I am about it.
I want to move to California. Just for a little bit, for now. I have always felt drawn to the state, even without ever visiting. Usually, I would find myself denying this craving for an experience and letting it pass without taking action.
But this time I'm going to do it, too -- next summer. I don't know what the hell that means. I'll find a place, find a friend, and live the life I dream of, unapologetically.
I really don't know anything about where my life is supposed to take me. I think that's why it's so beautiful. In this moment, I am a can of fireworks, brimming with potential for light, waiting to ignite and ready to shine.
I do know one thing, though: I am not destined for an ordinary life.