showing the universe you're serious
~ what soothed, enlightened and moved me this Spring ~
Dear friend,
I’ve missed you.
I’ve missed me, too—the little poet-mystic-dreamer girl in me that takes art classes, and reads books and spends hours laying in the grass. I miss the me that writes these letters.
She’s been tucked away, patiently waiting, as the adult me burrowed her way through a season of stress and overwhelm. In the eye of that hurricane of change was something unexpected and terrifying and wonderful: an apartment to call my own. Receiving the keys to a place I could call home indefinitely was laced with both romance and responsibility.
If you’d asked me on the 1st of March whether I’d be buying or renting when my lease ended this summer, I’d have said renting without hesitation . . . by the 1st of April I was putting in an offer on a condo.
The details of what happened in the span of those thirty days and after are lovely and wild and something I’ll be exploring through my writing for years to come.
At this moment, I’m mostly trying to emotionally and mentally integrate all of the transformations that have happened on multiple levels. The Spring was filled with portals, thresholds, goal posts, and finish lines. Endless motion. There was not a single day of stillness. Not a single day.
I said goodbye to my home of nearly four years and the loving domestic life I’d built with one of my closest friends. I completed a journalism fellowship I’d been aspiring toward for years. I facilitated Zoom calls and sent too many emails and attended conferences and confronted so much for my mental-emotional baggage around money. I rushed and scrambled and juggled. I gave things away and was gifted so much. I felt in my bones and my belly what I means to have a community.
I cried many times and still wish I’d cried more.
On a call with friends a few days ago, my wise beloved
proclaimed: “You have to show the universe you’re serious.”I felt those words drop onto my chest, warm and heavy. I was invited to show the universe I was serious about the home I wanted to steward—the city I wanted to continue belonging to. Now I’m transitioning into a season where I need to show the universe I’m serious about my play, my rest, my healing, and my creativity.
As the solstice carries us full speed into summer, I can see that poet-mystic-dreamer girl fluffing up her afro, riding with a basket full of flowers on her bicycle, and laughing laughing laughing with everyone she loves. Finally feeling safe enough to come out and play.
Below, I’ve compiled some of the things I’ve been listening to, reading and watching in the pockets of solitude and calm I’ve managed to snatch these last couple of months.
Thanks for waiting, friends. So much more to come . . .