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.