I had survived. Now it was time to live.

I was reshaped, excited, eager, maybe naive.

I WAS COMPLETE.

It had taken a lot of work, some courage,

AN ABUNDANCE OF LUCK,

four failed relationships, a meditation practice, movement,

and new and unlikely friends.

The rawness lessened and my wings regrew.

So began the relentless questioning that happens

before a shift.

The inner dialogue was a bit quieter than usual,

there was a "knowing" that was louder and distantly familiar.

An old friend that I had somehow forgotten, a constant companion during childhood and early adolescence.

A TIME BEFORE BULLSHIT.

I clearly felt the nudge to "Let Go", and so I did.

It wasn't logical.

I had no idea where I would land,

but I knew I would.

Finally strong enough, I dusted off the profession

that had laid dormant while

I WAS OUT DRUGGING AND WAISTING AWAY,

stripped of any self confidence and self reliance.

I kicked ass, was of service, showed up, dusty shoes, echoing job site, decisions, delegating tasks, strong women, hard working men, ambition, joy, anxiety. Then I got fired.

So I adopted a kitten and scooped up DEAD FISH

from the marina after a record heat wave.

I was still complete, albeit confused and a bit lost, and I would be okay.

LET GO.

Let go.

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