I’m in limbo.
I hate being in limbo.
We all want to know that we’re on track, that we’re heading toward what we most desire.
I know I’m on my path - probably more strongly than I’ve ever been in my life - but, right at this moment, it feels like someone hit pause on my life.
I’m searching for a job, dutifully sending out resumes even though people keep saying “You won’t get a job by applying for one.” My intuitive work is strengthening and deepening, but it’s not clear yet where it's going or how I can best serve with it. My writing feels creaky. God knows where next month’s money is coming from. I’m not dating. Even the dudes who pop into my phone every so often for their own entertainment have gone utterly silent.
All is quiet. Calm. It feels like sitting in the roller coaster car, waiting for the chains to pull you up to the top of the first spine-jarring drop.
My crystals are charged, my healing skills are ramping up and my house has been fully saged, but the ride hasn’t started yet.
Apparently, I’m in a portal right now - and my job is to heal. Heal for myself, heal for the world. Turns out, this is why my money dried up. I needed the push to do this work. So I do it, hours a day, even when it doesn't feel like I'm getting anywhere, because the trauma is deep and I'm clearing black pools of pain daily.
Fist bump for all the light workers out there doing the same right now.
So I keep going. Tunneling through, like Andy DuFresne facing two football fields worth of sewage. I don’t get to stop until I get my life equivalent of a red convertible cruising down the coast of Mexico.
Most of me loves this work and is perfectly content to be in this in-between space - making sweet potato soup, sitting in front of my altar to wrestle massive energy, and poking around on the internet for magic jobs.
But, in cranky moments, my life reminds me of that Calvin and Hobbes comic where Calvin’s beleaguered father asks, “What are you going to do if your life doesn’t thrill and delight you every second?”
Aside from my deep devotion to a stuffed animal, I never thought I had much in common with Calvin. But frankly, my life is not delighting me every second.
But you can’t game the journey. Sometimes you just have to surrender to its whims. And all you can do is keep moving forward, breathe in each moment, and pay deep attention to the small moments.
Tea in a giraffe mug, trees swaying in the breeze, porcupines on youtube. Beach houses in the sun, drape-y babies, birthday roses, and crystals juicing up under the full moon.
If you're crawling through a tunnel right now, I promise that you're crawling perfectly. And, yes, there is light coming for you. In fact it's coming from you - and soon you'll see it too.
Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to be deeply attuned to the small, lovely pleasures of your life - no matter what things look like now.
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