It’s been a really long time since I wrote anything personal, publicly, but after flipping through my journal just now I feel compelled to do so. Because perhaps I’m convinced that there is some value in what I’m about to share than just my own.
I’m going to be totally honest, and you can judge me if you choose to. But regardless of the outcome, I know I’ll always choose authenticity as the input.
I’ve been in a bit of a weird state lately where – yet again – I feel like I’m in transition mode, at a bit of a loss of direction and feeling rather… restless. When I’m not physically restraining myself from booking a plane ticket somewhere (a habit I’ve grown fond of to curb my restlessness), I’m trying to decide what I should be doing with my hours. I don’t know exactly; it’s just this strange in-between phase where there’s everything to get done and somehow nothing at all. Is this really what it feels like to be a business owner?
So, just now as I went to partake in my (almost) daily ceremony of writing in my journal, I noticed the pages running out. And then I started to wonder at how I’d managed to fill the journal so quickly, so naturally I began to flip back through the pages, memories from my year (and many emotionally charged ones) filling my mind and heart. I flipped through pages of heartbreak and loss, pages of hopefulness and optimism, pages of excitement and wonder.
And then it suddenly hit me: Wow… I’ve had a really challenging year.
The point I’m trying to make is not one that pins me as the victim, but one that brings light to the power of perspective. You see, somehow I’d returned back to Vancouver a year ago without a place to live, without a job, and with hardly any money. I’d fallen from grace – from a wonderful period of 6 months gallivanting abroad, and I was right back to the coldest, hardest reality I’d ever known.
And yet I didn’t see it as cold or hard at all.
I saw it for exactly what it was: an opportunity for growth.
I got myself on my feet, more or less, and then a few months after that, I went through the worst heartbreak. Like, the worst. Though I was suffering undeniably, even then I somehow managed to see the situation for exactly what it was: an opportunity to be stronger than I’ve ever been.
I could have just slept away the heart ache and refused to eat, withering in the darkness of my bedroom, but instead I participated relentlessly in my opportunity for strength. I became an obsessive yogi, booked myself on a last minute trip to Hawaii, saw a psychic or two, and even purchased myself a green onyx ring – my piece of strength, I called it.
And while I write this, I think to myself: why do I go to lengths to give myself such credit?
And then I know that giving the credit is just the point. And if you’re anything like me, you haven’t given yourself nearly enough credit for who you are and where you stand today. You haven’t thanked yourself for trying harder when all you wanted to do was give up. You haven’t really acknowledged how truly amazing you are.
So when you go to write in that journal, I beg of you: please flip back.
Photo Credit: Alaina Michelle Photography