60 Days In: The Alchemy of Discomfort; Blooming Through the Tangled Web of Spring
February 4, 2019. A Monday. Two months ago. The date of my last blog post. The first day of my 300 Days of Soul. A week before that, I had launched the 300 Day program, for you. But the truth is, I wasn’t ready. I still needed the space, and the time, and the energy, for me.
And so, with a quiet promise to myself, I took my time back, and my energy. 300 days for me to transition fully into the work I came here to do.
Selfish, yes. So very selfish. But oh, so, very generous, too. Filling myself up, and setting myself free, so that I will be, and have, more to give to you, when our journey together begins.
Gift yourself what you need. It is the greatest gift you can give those with whom you are in relationship.
I am now 60 days into this journey – this intentional dedication to my own Soul – and there is no denying my Soul’s truths have begun to take root and unfurl into the world.
I have initiated a transition out of formal legal work.
My last day at my law firm will be November 15, 2019 – four years to the day since I last returned. I have negotiated a slow transition out, to temper the shock of the change for both me and them. My colleagues are family to me, and this loss is more than financial.
Navigating conversations about leaving my firm has not been easy. Being with the discomfort of disappointing others and still holding my ground is something I find very challenging.
I am leaving. I really am. I am. It has taken a while for me to take myself seriously. Bolting would be easier. Less time to change my mind. Less time to feel the impact. Less time to grieve. Less time for fear and doubt to creep in.
Yet, I know I need to do this slowly, and responsibly. I am ready. It is time. Another 7 months will not change my mind. The truth in my Soul will not waver, and I am unwilling to numb it out. I have fought too hard to build up this relationship of trust with my Soul to give up now.
Instead, I practice the art of Grace: I give myself permission to be human. Every. Day. I give myself permission to not be perfect in how I communicate my truth. I give myself permission to go back in, to correct course, and to clean up my messes, as many times as is necessary to stay true to myself, and be respectful of those whom my actions impact.
Our culture vastly underestimates the alchemical power of standing in an uncomfortable conversation. Too often we miss out on the healing and transformational gift of allowing disagreement and pain to exist, in the open, without trying to fix it.
My heart is breaking from this leaving. I grieve the potential futures I have not chosen, such as being a partner at this firm. I grieve the familial comfort of the office that has been my second home. I will continue to grieve the changes over the coming months, as my heart becomes lighter, and more excited about the adventure to come.
I will not avoid the pain. I will not deny myself the experience of the underbelly of love.
I am noticing in this moment just how good it feels to write this, to make this process sacred. Because it is.
Allowing my Soul to guide me does not mean I get to escape the vulnerability of my humanity; it means opening to those tender, trembling moments even more. It means amplifying my self-love and self-forgiveness to levels beyond what I have previously known, and being present with all of it.
In those courageous moments when I have spoken my Soul’s truth with an open heart, despite my nauseating fear, I have felt, in an embodied way, ancient and well-worn patterns of self denial begin to re-route themselves; deep seated wounds begin to recover.
The body is amazing. It will work miracles of healing for us if we choose to fully inhabit it, while standing in our Soul’s truth.
Sixty days in. It has not been easy so far. I doubt that will change. But I have experienced magick, deep healing, and the freedom of allowing my Soul to be seen.
I am emerging from the entangled and thorny brush of the past two months, cradling a tightly-woven bud. The fog is lifting. The sun is peaking.
I am pregnant with the creativity of spring.
May the blooming begin.