A little over a year ago I was offered a few weeks of free coaching by a training institute. I thought, Hell, why not, though in my mind there couldn't be too much they could coach me on right now. Things were good, right?
This certainty was brought to an excruciating halt in our first session when I was asked the simplest of questions:
What are you excited about?
I was stunned by my own silence. My inability to respond. My throat got tight but I managed some sort of disembodied reply.
When I was younger I used to tear the "bad days" out of my journal. Truly, I did. You know, the day where absolutely everything went wrong - you spilled chocolate milk on your brand new shirt and the guy you had a major crush on started dating someone else and you failed the test you thought you were going to ace. Not earth shattering stuff but in my world, there was no room for it. I only wanted to read back and remember the beautiful stuff. So out those pages went, just torn right from my own account of my life's story.
I'd done as I'd grown older too. But the way I did it was a little bit different. The goal: just keep my shit together until 5 pm. Then I'd pour myself my glass of wine or crack my beer and we were off into "Feeling Land." And because I really wasn't good and making sure I didn't pour myself that third (or fourth, or fifth) glass of wine things came tumbling out of me. Not in the cathartic way where you feel something then sit with it then make a choice. Oh no, how I wish! Instead ugly things that'd I'd been stuffing deep down would either come tumbling out or pouring down my face in tears. It wasn't pretty but it was what I thought "coping" looked like. In fact, this is what I thought life looked like. It became my normal.
Be stellar all day. Be inspiring. Shine. Practice what you preach.
Then lose your shit.
(Just don't Instagram that part.)
So when I was asked this question of what I was excited about it was the almost start to The Year that Everything Changed. The year when I started listening to my soul stirring and began to move out of my own way. The year I woke up clear eyed and of clear mind. The year I found my voice and I used it. A lot. The year I finally began to the listen to that inner voice that pleaded for me to stop. The year I saw the magic and the "God winks" and reminders all around me of what I was missing; what was right in front of my face.
Guess what happens when you get out of your own way.
Things you never dreamt possible.
I quit drinking. I was on the cover of Yoga Journal. I taught 5,000 people. I moved to Silver Lake. I chopped my hair off.
It's kind of insane how proud I am of myself. I'm living a completely different life. And I really needed it. I just would've never been able to draw the map. Yet I was led here.
This was the year I finally got to see me.