Blowing It Up

i hope as i get older and scared-er that i don't forget how to blow up my life and start over and over again -- A tweet from Mitski. P.S. This is a photo I took in Berlin

Hi friends! I'm writing (and listening to the Amelie soundtrack, and eating assorted sprouted toasts) to you on my first day as a self-employed person. I showed up for myself, in my pajamas but on time, and am rewarding my efforts with some solid self-reflection, life-reflection and snacks.

I quit my job precisely two weeks ago to pursue a creative path of my own design. My corner (of the internet) already knows this, but I'll be operating in my beloved mind/body/mystical wellness sphere as a writer/marketer/event programmer/speaker/recipe developer/small business resource. Writer/Consultant for short... still have to perfect that elevator pitch.

In career terms, I'm somehow not at all nervous. Opportunities keep springing up and maybe it's the Capricorn in me, but I have a way of attracting mountains of (henceforth fulfilling) work. The idea of waking up every morning and getting down to business on my own terms, at my own pace, with a freezer full of smoothie bowl ingredients at my side and one of Dylan's giant teeshirts enveloping my body makes me want to sing. The idea of working with clients whose vision aligns with my own empowering self-care mission makes me want to weep wholly alkaline tears of unbridled joy, which tells me that I'm doing my dharma or something close to it for the first time in my life. And the idea of figuring out freelance insurance and correctly setting up monthly or quarterly tax payments pumps me up considerably less, but anything in the name of purpose, right?

In life terms, however, I'm freaking the f*** out. Post-quitting, after a week or so of relief and the best sleep I've ever had, anxiety hit in a major way. It's elusive anxiety, too -- I can't attribute it to financial worries yet, or fear of sparse clientele. Rather, I've somehow displaced it onto all other facets of life -- mainly relationships with all my best peeps, and, yes, self-care. I think running my own show will be the best thing for me, but what systems will I put in place to keep showing up for loved ones and myself, in my pajamas, every damn day? Can I really keep that up when I'm the only one accountable? The truth is, I don't know. I haven't had a chance to build that trust with myself, sooooo I've been casually flipping out at my friends and family and life/love partner instead! (Upside down smiley face).

That Mitski tweet up top is a gem unearthed by Dylan, who inspires me daily to follow what glimmers for me and leave behind the things that no longer do... or never did. We have a lot of adventures in the works: we want to live and work and travel all over and I will write about a fresh round of freak outs on that front in the near future. But for now, I just want to sit with the fact that I'm proud of myself. For blowing it up. I can't know exactly where the dust, glitter and scree will settle, but when that time comes, I think I'll know with utmost certainty that I can make something beautiful of it all.