It dawned on me that I've created this victim persona of myself with her. That identity does not give me comfort. I never dreamed my ex-husband would do the things he has done, but that is not me. I am not living the prescribed life that my family or former friends would like for me, but I am me. I am not a victim. I am not what has happened to me.
Alertness set in on me early this morning, my whole body filled with inspiration. Yesterday's sickness and fever linger, and it is 26 degrees. I have to get in to the office to remove a mural I painted a few weeks back. My thoughts grappled with each other: drive or bike this morning?
I remembered a movie, 180 deg South. I lusted after the responsibility-free life of these climbers. These guys did everything to climb, surf, and sail. They gave up the things I define as success on a hunt for a thrill. Hey self: slow down there, Judgy McJudgerstein. They aren't less than human any more than you are or anybody is. Hell, they have a movie. This is their path. What's yours?
"If you set out on a journey to affect some kind of physical to spiritual gate and you compromise the process along the way, and you’re an asshole when you start then you’ll be an asshole when you finish” ~180 deg SouthThis is how I find myself packing a vacuum cleaner into pannier bags and donning the ski gear intended for yesterday's non-trip to Wintergreen mountain. It isn't because a sickness happened to me, but because the backside of pain is experience. Experience is life, and life is beautiful.
In no particular order I present to you, dear Universe, my goals:
- Ride the divide from Banff to Fort Collins
- Lose sight of shore for long enough that it becomes a new normal
- Build a product and company that serves the greater good
- Raise up some childrens (ya'll)
- Keeping working a handstand until it breaks my bones
