#ActuallyICan

I’m here for the dreamers: for the ones that want to make a change. For the people just sick and tired of being sick and tired. For the ready, the determined, the fearful, the anxious, the non-believers. For the people that desperately want a life of freedom, contentment, and peace but just don’t know where to start, or what they want to do, or how they’ll get to wherever it is they are going.

I’m finding myself in these crazy rabbit holes on social media: celebrity break up progressions (I didn’t even know Scarlett Johansson and Ryan Reynolds were married before today), before and after pictures of someone I really don’t care about (Jonah Hill…I seriously clicked though like 35 pictures of him before I was like, what the […]

thought I was too tired, too exhausted, too overwhelmed to write tonight. I was scared I didn’t have the right thing to say and that a post like this would just add to the to-do, to-read, to-be list of someone that was equally, or exponentially, overwhelmed.

If you’ve known me for any length of time, or even not very long, you’ve probably figured out that I have, ahem, “dabbled” in a few different passion projects over the years.

It’s hard not to get swallowed up in it all. Really hard. But as I sit here, on National Dog Day no less, staring out my window at three very content, happy (all be it very hot) Australian shepherds, I’m trying to take a lesson from them. They’re just happy waiting for one of us to acknowledge them, pet them and play with them.

Picture it: I’ve walked in to a party, or a bar, or a friend’s house, or by myself in my own kitchen; location really doesn’t matter. A drink “appears” in front of me; likely a large glass of white wine, but could be a beer or cocktail.

How can I unpack these feelings of rejection and call them what they really are?  No more than old, ugly fears tempting me to return to a life of lack and fear and hangovers. 

He talks about doing something you don’t absolutely love for a living and masking it as practicality.

This is a foreign concept to me now, but I’ve certainly been here. I’ve worked lots of jobs; banking, bartending, customer service, soldier.

My experience with a yoga class starts days before I even go. I start thinking about a Monday morning class on Saturday. I find reasons not to go; I’m too fat, too out of shape, too tired, too busy, too whatever.