I love this quote. For me it so accurately describes those days (weeks, months, years?) where we don’t quite feel like ourselves. And we have to find the things that make our hearts happy (or did at one point, when we were more ourselves) and practice doing those things as a calling to the self inside, urging it to come back out. It's in there. After some time, perhaps those hands gingerly holding the guitar neck and strumming the strings won’t feel so foreign. Perhaps the urge to do that thing you used to always love doing will become natural again instead of gently forced. It will be like riding a bike...maybe you’ll do that again too.
I have become very familiar with this disjointed feeling, and am grateful that there are still certain scenarios and certain people that keep me connected and hopeful. I've been questioning my very foundation this past year and have felt the definition of burned out and uprooted. This past month since I've quit my job has felt something like blindly walking through fog while picking up the scattered pieces of myself; trying them like puzzle pieces to see what still fits. It also feels a bit like what I would picture amnesia feeling like, in the sense that I seem to forget that I worked in a good career and developed an awesome skillset that will assist me in the next step. Suddenly I've time-traveled to 2011 after graduation, when I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing and didn't have anywhere to start.
What did I quit for again?
Oh yeah, my well being! Although it hasn't been the magical experience that overworked employees daydream about at their desks, I am grateful for the time and space. I know that each puzzle piece I choose will be building a more authentic me, and that's what I will always continue to strive for.
I have a short list I found in my phone of what makes me happy that I wrote in 2016:
- Seeing dogs
- Recognition (being recognized by others)
- Commitment to plans
I am very grateful to say that all of those exist in my current life, with Seattle being an occasional trip. I must not have finished the list, because I could add so much more to that. Including but not limited to: being in the sunshine, coffee, bacon, love notes (and the one who writes them), hugs, mom and dad, hugs from mom and dad, live music, family hang outs, deep conversations at breweries, my family's tradition of waving goodbye, walks, hikes, kombucha dates, St. Patty's Day brunch, yoga, Himalayan salt lamps, reading good books, painting, sushi from my favorite spot, and more. I'm relying on the anchors both big and small in my life that instill hope, bring joy, and remind me of myself during this time of big change. Fight for joy, fight for light. Always.
I hope you're well, friends.