Jump

Once upon an awful time ago I was waiting for a sign to jump. Even my therapist at the time said that watching me wait was like Chinese water torture. Likely not the most professional analysis, but she wasn't entirely incorrect. That sign was going to indicate clearly if my situation was "normal" or very f*cked up, and it was going to tell me exactly what to do.

So I waited... The heaviness I felt when pulling into the driveway? Nope, not a sign. Driving to nowhere so I could cry where no one would hear me? Nope. Definitely. Not. A. Sign. The empty bed, the killer back pain, my inability to share or speak about what was happening? Nope, nope, nope. No sign in sight in this agonizing journey toward truth. Sometimes our soul shifts so far away from our bodies that we sit in our cars and cry, or we mess around with someone who's not our life partner at the time, or we judge the other person in every attempt to eject ourself out and away from our own pain.

Clearly (now) it wasn't a sign I was waiting for after all, because those were all in plain sight. My life was getting rearranged and reorganized while I was stuck on a ledge. My soul knew the disconnect. It was the rest of my self that needed to catch up. It was courage I was waiting for... the courage and strength to jump before we all drowned. .

This picture - I wish it looked like I was jumping from higher, ala the photoshopped fantasy of the functional family, but often those first steps are very small. This post - Well hmmm, I was prompted, what's your platform here? Well hmmm, I replied, idk, maybe my platform is honesty or vulnerability or transparency. I'm OK with those. I'm not telling you to jump. I am suggesting you listen... to the stories you tell yourself, to the pain or the pills, and mostly to your soul's disconnect because enduring isn't noble. Courage and authenticity are noble.

So if you see anything here that resonates, maybe it's a sign. Or maybe maybe join us on an upcoming fabulous much-needed wellness retreat.