Change & Growth

I’m starting to believe (based on experience and intuition) that there are certain times in our life where we are like a vessel. A set of circumstances happens, world or personal events line up and some part of life cracks open.

As you may already know, this year I’ve been working on launching a second hand apparel company, Fold and Fray. Despite any resistance that occasionally comes up, I firmly believe that moving slow is essential.

If you're working to change and interested in growth, there will be slip ups; when you-know you know better but cave to an old pattern anyway. You can consciously be aware that something is not healthy, and still do it. This is part of the process of change.

Simplicity is about making time. We only get a certain amount of hours, it's not limitless as we sometimes feel it is. If you didn’t perceive your time to be limitless would you do things differently

The nature of bringing certain things into your life
will require movement.
Shifting, clearing, releasing.
Calling in requires space,
And space is made by letting go.

The place I was living,
my metaphorical house
(body, spirit, self, mind, external world)
came down.
Beyond repair.

Working on yourself to heal and do better is like taking inventory. You first work with what you already know. Layers like onions, peeling back one at a time in a non attached, curious, patient way. Because when you meet a layer you didn’t know about, you treat it with kindness, investigate it, figure out the best way to unravel, how to set that part free.

Accepting where you’re at is tender, but that softening brings you back to the moment and into your body. When we want something to be different than it is we miss out on our lives. Wanting uncomfortable feelings to pass, or waiting for a moment in the future, is wishing your life away.

Changing how you live doesn’t happen overnight. Often we want quick results, but that’s not how things work… We do our best. And sometimes it will be great, and other times it won’t.

Rising from a place of destruction, preparing to face things you’d rather not, is like gathering every possible tool for your toolbelt, ready for excavation.

I always expect healing to be a straight trajectory. But it isn't. Taking two steps forward then one back still means you’re taking steps, even if they’re one at a time or sideways. Although it kind of sucks, deep healing is probably essential if we genuinely want to change, to be better for ourselves, everyone else, and the planet.

And what if a series of things that feel off track are actually happening to get you on track? But because it’s night, you can't see where you’re going… and then maybe you’ll see that you're late just to arrive.