I sat down to work today and instead I started to write. In the pursuit of my dreams there are things that come up that I feel compelled to put on the page. Lately, I've noticed how as the opportunities I've dreamt about feel closer than ever, I feel more afraid than ever before.
I look back in my writing and see the same theme. I'm afraid of my dreams. Or rather, I'm scared of the expansion necessary to accept them. Each step closer to becoming the woman I want to be means being in rooms with brave women that intimidate me. It means rising to the challenge. It means coalescing my fears into something useful, into something I can use.
It means being more vulnerable. Admitting when I'm wrong. Dealing with new personalities. Accepting those things that I am not. I'm releasing the idea of having to show up looking a certain way. I'm recognizing that what I have to say will leave a larger impression than how frizzy my curls look on a given day.
I'm learning to make time for and respect rest. I'm understanding that I need time alone and I need time with my family to maintain perspective. Being around my brother and sister gives me peace. They are so free, so sweet, so full of laughter and hope. My brother wiggled his tooth this weekend until it fell out. The simplicities of everyday life. Like wiggly teeth. A tight hug. How blowing out candles smells like the end.
I'm so grateful for the productivity, the go, go, go. The continual learning, the support. At the same time I'm grateful for the grey days, the teary eyed days, the days when I need rest. I'm grateful that I can admit that I'm scared of my dreams, then go get them.