ok, let's talk, for real. yeah, about death and joy again, ok?

i feel the spring relinquishing its water.

the thawing of winter

from my dead bones,

into vibrant moss.

listen, i can’t even get poetic about this shit right now because the way it’s all playing out is too dramatic, too written for television (really good television, if i’m being honest). there’s betrayal of the spiritual sort, of self and of other. there is inner conflict, outer conflict, ties have been broken, and ties still linger! and we’re in this really climactic moment of the story where there is a huge swell of joy and elation as our main character bounces off of rock bottom and starts taking steps toward realizing their fullest self! we’re at the end of this story, and we know it because we’re seeing the characters we forgot about from act one and they’re coming back in to resolve the storyline. but it’s smart, it’s witty, because as some storylines resolve and come to a beautiful reunion in a childhood swimming pool 20 years later, others don’t.

other storylines don’t have anywhere to go. because one party has died. or pulled away. or chose to live a highly unconscious life, or— well, god, there are a hundred ways and reasons why people exit our lives. it all feels trite. like i’m directing it. like i’m playing a new part, one that i’m better casted for than the one i was playing before, but it’s all happening to someone else.

i’m removed from it. it’s too hot to get too near.

so i focus on the things that are going well. the projects that are sprouting, the ways i’m getting a handle on my new life, my new life standing on my own two feet in every single way. feels like paddle boarding. balance. you’re definitely going to fall in, and you definitely don’t think you will, but you will. just prepare for it.

they could smell death on me for years prior. people started feeling weird with their babies around me, stopped making plans with us altogether. they felt guilty that they had it so easy, straight couples, that they got pregnant quickly, right after they said they intended to. and for us, it was years of talking about it. when it’s so intentional, you can really easily talk yourself out of it. ask for another 6 months. maybe a year. and then again at the next promotion or career idea. it’s easy to put off.

the truth is, i had fallen into a death cycle. some combination of living in nyc, trump becoming president, getting married, lauren’s grandmother dying, my cousin dying, lauren’s step-mom dying… sometimes i think about becoming a death doula but right now i’m seeing the ways that i have already been holding that work.

maybe this is the rebirth. maybe it’s through these final fires that i can finally have a fucking break. please, universe. fucking please. i’m exhausted.

i’ve been incubating on writing. words haven’t been coming fast enough or clear enough to be worth trying to hammer together anything respectable or responsible. i’ve saved it for the journals. the book is on pause as i figure out a way to be financially on my own. hard to remember that it’s not the same survival mode i was in 8 years ago. i am not hungry. i am not cold and wet in seattle, unable to buy new shoes. i have skills. and yes, i still have too many jobs.

i have dreams of where i’m heading. but i’m fine taking my time. i’m loving what i’m doing right now. i write a corporate blog, that i really actually love. after a traumatic year and a half in the corporate world, i have some fucking opinions, and this company allows me to express those opinions in corporate-speak which also requires me to back my opinions up with data and research and critical thought, so like, that’s probably a good muscle to flex for this double-pisces feeler.

anyway. joy is flooding into my life hot and fast like a pot of water boiling over. it’s a lot. it’s intense. i’m still grieving. and shedding old layers and tending to this very tender, very fresh new skin. i’m surrounded by people who are loving me and making space for me and are giving me space and allowing me to be a little messy.

geographically speaking, i’ll be a bit all over the place between september 1 - december 1. i didn’t get the gig in austin- cookbook photography gig- but i did book 2 other freelance gigs! so hey. things are panning out. i trust in the divine movement of the universe. i trust in myself. going through hard things is easier with age because we have the tools to reach for. i’m grounding myself in deep gratitude for taking the time to know myself, for advocating for myself, for making space for my deepest desires. what else can we do? relinquish control. surrender to the movement. be smart. use your tools.

know that it will pass in the very moment you think it won’t.