Kim and Holly stop for a rest at a cute little hut in the majestic jungle.
I can’t even express it, but I’ll try. This incredible elation – a reaction to my *freedom*. I’m up early, about to workout, then work more on my writing and zip off to have lunchee with my once-client, now-friend. My first day of dropping the corporate shackles yesterday, and I already have a little writing gig, enough money to live on for a year or more, and the knowledge that THIS is how I’m supposed to live. Bless the masses of peeps who can find joy in the day to day of an office, but it’s high time I embrace the fact that I’m not one of them. I have a huge desire to work my ass off – motivation that I haven’t felt in years and years – but on my terms. From the coziness and quietude of my home. From the Starbucks on Gower. From the little park in WeHo. From a cafe in Guam. See now, I have wings.
I have battled a pretty profound depression since my jungle-return, and I attributed the majority of that to losing the Seeker. A really wretched break-up. I can’t belittle that experience in the least, as I did love him immensely, and my heart still breaks for the loss of him, for his mind-boggling tribulations – yet, much of my paralysis was misplaced. I finally allowed into my consciousness the vision of my true path, yet I wasn’t fully ready to walk it – leaving the office handcuffs and meandering into the great unknown. Trusting that I can make a go of it in the freelance world, spending more time writing and less time slaving and sweating for someone else’s pocketbook. Well, yesterday the Universe stepped in – yet again – and said fine, I’ll do it for you.
And so it goes. The first full day of the new life. I am ready, accepting, so happy I could burst. There is no chance of failure, see, when I feel this confident and trusting. I am just the luckiest, luckiest girl.
