Thinking about ease tonight. The feeling of allowing and going with the flow. The feeling of not caring what time it is and diving into inspiration and letting it all come out. Letting the words, feelings, thoughts flow. Thinking of the lifestyle I want, defining how I want to spend my time. Feeling the ultimate freedom of defining what I want my life to look like and taking action towards it. It’s a feeling of absolute calm. I used to relish in the excitement of daydreaming and planning and wishing and hoping. Now I revel in this. The moment here, in front of me. The absolute solidity of knowing and taking aligned action toward something that once existed in mind and now forming in front of me, a result of my own efforts.
I feel a difference in my relationship to time. It used to be something I feared because I was all too aware of how quickly it passed and how limited it is. I thought it was something to fill with accomplishments and completed lists, the stresses never-ending. Thinking it was something to get through. And then, like a flower opening, the awareness of time really hit me: we aren’t meant to do it all. We are meant to do what is for us—and that is enough. While we have a tendency to define ourselves by what we do, it’s not about quantity, it’s about quality and authenticity.
I think about the moments I missed trying to fill space because of the incessant need to prove which was an effort to quell my massive anxiety. The useless motion, doing either what I was told or wishing for something else when all I had to do was act. I had to put down the mask I created, the shield of perfectionism I wore close to the chest. There is sadness but I know it was nothing more than a defense mechanism. I did what I had to in order to survive. I never could have anticipated how long it would take to get out of that state of mind—and I never really understood the weight of what I carried.
Once I stopped running and filling time, once I started gauging time by personal productivity (doing things I wanted) rather than activity (what people told me to do), I breathed different. I looked around me and really took stock of what I saw. While it wasn’t entirely what I wanted, while it was comprised of the bits and pieces of lives I had once envisioned and started then left behind, I saw the life I built clearly. I saw what my mind and my own two hands were capable of. For every time I thought “it” was over, I saw how I kept going. Not only that, but I saw how close I had really come in some ventures. I could have taken that as a moment of regret because I knew that I could have succeeded in any one of those ventures had I trusted myself. Instead, I looked at what I had done and admired the life I had created. I felt safe, not for what was around me, but for the fact that seeing what I once did showed me what I am and would be truly capable of. It was stuff of a long gone era that used to make me feel safe because they were achievements to show my worth. I saw the things and for the first time realized I truly didn’t need them. Safe wasn’t a thing, it was a state I created. Safe came from me.
I no longer feel compelled to prove. I feel able to set my boundaries and enter a conversation speaking truthfully about what I need. My needs aren’t an inconvenience yet they aren’t for anyone to meet. My life is mine and once we take ownership of our lives, there is no turning back. There is no giving up the time for things we once would have. There is no settling for something that we have luke-warm interest in. There is no apology for taking what we need, including the time to recover and heal. There is joy in ease and flow. There is value in truth and authenticity and like-minded support. There is peace.