One door closes, another one opens

It’s the Sunday after my 30th birthday.

As I write this I’m reminiscing about my homemade baked goods yesterday as I adjust the cheap tablecloth my laptop is sitting on. Right up until our first guest arrived I was baking my first attempt at a 2-layer cake which was a major highlight for me. Although the steps were simple it was the follow-through I was proud of, I have a tendency to get excited when making the fire but sustaining the flames proves difficult.

But there’s something about this place, my new home, that’s proving to be different altogether. And I think I’ve figured out why.

Yesterday I threw a 90s theme 30th with long-time friends at the brand new townhome I moved to at the beginning of the month. Add to that the confidence-boosting haircut I got the day before I moved, you could say I was vibing high.

My home and heart were filled with good vibes the day of the party. From the moment I woke up to the end of the day the energy was funny and loving. My friends got the most intentional and heartfelt gifts I could have received, right down to the wording in each card. At the end of the night, as Ivan and I were cleaning up all the food and saying our goodbyes, I paused to express gratitude for all that I’ve been blessed to receive. That’s when I realized something.

As everyone packed up food and headed to their cars, I realized the party wasn’t the only thing that had ended that night. The anticipation I’ve held for over a year in my heart has officially stopped because I got everything I asked for.

This party was thrown two weeks after we moved into the new place, the same place we had initially inquired about a year ago. Since then there have been dozens of setbacks and obstacles because it was being built from the ground up, a.k.a. lessons in patience disguised as frustrations.

With the move-in dates changing from November, to January, to April, to May, and then finally back to April, there were very few moments of certainty about this move. In fact, I remember with each setback in the move-in date, I continued to drop expectations until I nearly gave up hope.

Other than loving the idea that it was just being built, loving the idea that no other butts sat on those toilet seats and laid in those tubs. It was exciting to live somewhere no one had before, in a place with fewer buildings and more land. We didn’t have certainty about when, but we had a strong desire and unwavering faith about the what, even if it was tested time and time and time again.

The party wasn’t the only thing coming to an end this weekend, our anticipation of what would come has also come to an end, and that’s a transition worth paying attention to. It’s the point when I stop waiting in anticipation and begin living in/as the very thing I’ve been fixated on. The new place, the move, the birthday celebration-all things that didn’t have fixed plans just a month ago have all come and gone. The waiting felt like forever while the actual event came and went so quickly, it’s funny how time works with emotion like that.

Waking up the day after the party made me feel like it was the first time waking up in this new place, even though I have been living here for a couple of weeks. It was odd, not having any clue what comes next but having the foundation to create anything you want. This was the first day I woke up anticipating nothing.

Not like I planned on doing nothing specifically, but rather there were no other plans I was looking forward to. It’s as if all my major plans had come to a culminating point and now there was life to be lived beyond that. I hadn’t thought about the “beyond that moment“, and yet it was here. Time didn’t need my opinion or participation to keep moving forward, so I found myself catching up.

I am officially starting over in a new decade, a new town, a brand new space, with a gigantic yet positive question mark on my path of doing.

Today I realized the leveling up that I had been receiving intuitive messages about for over a year has already begun and that the chapters that came before have already begun to close. Sands are shifting. At this moment I am living the life I once prayed for, struggled to believe in, and visualized unfolding for my family. I’m thankful and, it’s scary. This is the precise moment that I tend to drop the ball and want to run the other way.

And do you know why? Because it’s real.

In realizing that I always get what I call into my life, I also recognize my power to call it in. A power that is so real that when focused, has the potential and strength to make shifts happen. At that moment of recognition, I could either be fearful of what I’ve called into my life or I can choose to embrace what’s possible from this space. Within a split second, if I’m not intentional about watching my thoughts, I could easily fall into the trap of thinking in small or fearful ways, which diminishes the power I hold within.

What’s important is to accept the nature of being human and falling into patterns of behavior, so that when it happens I spend less time in the judgment of making poor choices and spend more time tuning into the choices that I am making. There’s a difference between beating yourself up and acknowledging what happened, awakening to your circumstance, and dwelling on what could have been.

So today I notice my tendency to want to put work off and watch tv; today I notice my urge to keep eating party food and soda, rather than hydrate and nourish; today I notice my version of the Sunday scaries, making simple tasks feel daunting and responsibilities sound immense; today I notice that my power can be used for evil too. With all the things under the spotlight of my awareness today, I remember my choices only bring me two places.

Moving either closer to or moving further from, the version of myself I’d like to be. That’s all there is when you take away the judgment of right and wrong, which can often paralyze us into never making decisions and remaining in comfort. One thing about comfort is you will never expand or evolve into higher versions of yourself, you’ll stick with what you know even if that means playing small.

Today I choose to notice my power, allowing it to shine bright and as loud as it needs to, and I choose to be intentional about where I point that power.

I choose to point it toward faith, love, and possibilities while starving my fears, doubts, and limits.

Life has already begun, I’m simply deciding to be here now.