in my color era
My favorite coffee shop in Denver is in an old firehouse. It’s in a charming little neighborhood with shops and trees and interesting humans. I pack my notebooks, my books, sometimes my laptop and spend at least a couple days a month there, filling up my creative reservoirs.
There’s an older woman who has been there the last couple times. Unruly curly grey hair, thick black glasses and always some kind of eccentric outfit. And every time I see her I have this urge to pull up a chair next to her. I don’t because I also love to be at a coffee shop alone, headphones in, taking in the energy but also enjoying my own quiet.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how I want to age. How I want to embody my forties. And I love when I see someone who reminds me of that.
My twenties were chaotic. My thirties were a time of huge shifts. And near the end of my thirties, I found myself becoming smaller energetically, more muted. I spent several years so vulnerable, so exposed. As my coach @workwithshelli - almost as though you could feel the wind blow through you. And I felt an urge to hole up, go in, wrap my heart and soul so tight that it couldn’t feel that way again. I felt too groundless.
This time served its purpose. The pendulum must swing both ways.
But in the past few months I knew it wasn’t possible anymore. That sort of living isn’t for me, isn’t fulfilling and isn’t taking me to where I need to be. And it’s boring and predictable AF.
Last night in yoga @alina_hokanson spoke about transmutation, the kind of change that takes place that feels permanent. I feel that way. I might still be in the tunnel or standing at the door but I do feel such a shift.
That shift includes color, laugh lines, soul, vulnerability, deep trust, cosmic joy, truth telling, divine guidance. And I’m here for it. In my blindingly pink jacket on a snowy day.
