I sit here still sifting and sorting through my multitudes of notebooks, writings and all the binders from all the seminars I’ve attended over the past decade. I see receipts for the tens of thousands of dollars I spent and inhale the desperation off of the ink of my signature made while in an NLP trance in the back of the room. High on possibility. Buying yet another key to the kingdom of my dream before trying the ones I already bought from the previous ones having just attended. Knowing now that it is I who has ever held what I was searching elsewhere for. I love that me who was so committed. Thinking I was doing all the right things in an attempt to stop doing what I thought were the wrong ones. Seeing now more than ever the deeper layer. The tidal wave of my full potential and my innate desire to ride it all the way. I’m still surfing the waves and riding out the dream. Only now the desperation is gone. The significance I was chasing along with it has faded. I see in these stacks that I wasn’t able to implement what I learned and gained from these “experts” because I wasn’t able to see my own value. Underneath my ambition was unworthiness. Inadequacy. And all sorts of other gremlins constantly hijacking every bit of possibility I dared entertain the idea of having. And so my hot pursuit was also a convenient way for me to stay busy “working on” my dream instead of actually implementing the things necessary to attain it.
I stayed on that rodeo circuit until I was drained of money and emotional energy.
It was as though God stuck his hand out and said ENOUGH. I hadn’t realized until the Universal slap down that I had been chasing significance along with the dream. The dream was what I thought I was after and really it was what I thought I was lacking that I was feverishly trying to gain.
Not being able to have children. No longer being a wife. I had lost a sense of identity and was trying to find it. Trying to earn my way to something that would give me that same level of significance and it was a farce. God validated my enoughness. As is. I was also forced to face the demons I had been trying to outrun. The grief of my infertility. The pain of my divorce. The loss of my best friend and grandmother to Alzheimer’s.
I see in these binders all that was binding me and really preventing me from moving forward in all those things I aspired to do, be and create. I see myself exactly where I am, compassionately. Not at all where I thought I’d be. And I’m no longer chasing the dream. It in fact still chases me. And I pause and wait and listen to its guidance. It’s direction, not my navigation but the Divines. One in proper alignment. Authentically paced and purposed rather than pursued. It has more of an ease to it and grace about it. It is light, not heavy. It encourages not demands. It doesn’t place conditions or extremes only acknowledges and validates every inch of the process. Reminding me it is just that. A process. Progress not perfection for it already is. This plan. The divine choreography of life. Learning the steps as we go. Starting again each time we stumble or trip. Fail or fall.
So I love where I’m at. In this pile. On this floor. I love the pages full of reminders of my journey. I still dream and imagine, follow and believe without force I exhale. I trust. I believe. I have faith. I relax and enjoy this crazy ride into the wild unknown…
The “High on Life” Coach