So. Tonight I’m getting on a plane. With my boyfriend. And tomorrow morning, we’ll land in New York City, and I’ll be….
THIRTY FIVE FUCKING YEARS OLD.
I can’t even.
Really. I just can’t even wrap my head around this amazing space right now.
Every year of my thirties has brought tremendous change, and quite honestly, each year has been better than the last.
Like a lot better.
A LOT. LOT.
To what do I attribute this great fortune?
Yes, it is that simple. For real.
Around 30 I had an attitude shift handed to me on a platter lined with opportunity and covered in sharp, pointy, painful edges. I chose to hold it anyway, and close to my center. I started living life with an attitude of gratitude, and I saw my experiences and reality through a lens of abundance despite the situation.
Things were hard. In many aspects, my life was a total shitshow. And yet, I chose to be happy.
I still am.
I ditched the labels, the boxes, the limitations found in “needs,” “shoulds,” “supposed-to’s” and “oughts,” and just got real with myself. Really real. Four yoga teacher trainings real. Quitting stable jobs real. Cashing out my entire retirement funds and investing in myself real. Working 15 hour days in a start-up real. Dating a 28 year old who rocks the FUCK out of my world real.
I choose to see the world, my world, as it is. And I get to love the shit out of it. All of it. I accept it all.
I accept all of myself. I accept all of you. ALL, of you.
And, because I’m not one to sit on my ass and just wait for shit to manifest itself (although it totally can), I took positive action.
If it didn’t serve me and wasn’t aligned with my true north I walked away, dropped it, passed, or otherwise said “NO THANK YOU.” And, you know, then there was that whole “say yes to everything bit. I did a whole lot of that. With the caveat, of course, that I was all in, until I wasn’t. When I’m done, I’m allllll done. When I’m in, I’m all in. I don’t do gray areas, anymore.
I’m a “fuck yes,” or a “hell to the no.”
I got clear about what I wanted, I asked for it, and… you know the rest of this story. It showed up. Every time.
Every. Damn. Time.
Here’s the thing. For so many years, I was afraid to ask for what I wanted. I didn’t think I really deserved it. I thought I had to earn it, through hard work, grit, perseverance, prayer, approval, whatever.
It’s not that I was wrong; hard work does pays off, it’s just that I was focused on the wrong kind of work. I was concered about the what, and not the why. The end, and not the beginning. The result, and not the antecedent. What I learned was— the action begins in your headspace. Thoughts become action.
Thus, what you think about. . . .
You fucking bring about.
So you know, think carefully. Ask clearly. Be specific. Really, really, REALLY fucking specific. Because, the universe has a sense of humor, and it just might deliver you a 28 year old who buys a plane ticket to fly across the damn country just to spend your birthday with you.
Think well. Be well. Play well. Live well.
Peace out, 34. 35, I’m all in. Let’s fucking do this.
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