Can you remember?
Can you really, truly say this happens? Every day? Even every week? Can you really?
My heart aches for this. To be free, to soar, to feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my skin, to immerse myself in music, in song, in creating, in piles of paints and timber and paper. To cycle, to run, to explore, to just simply move and feel the muscles in my body respond, oxygen flooding, screaming in happiness just to be alive, alive, living...
It's not easy, and it is easy. It's not easy to get to the point of realisation that everything is constructed a certain way for a reason. It's not easy to wake up each day, dying a little inside as you fill with grey and walk hunched into that monochromatic life. It's not easy to give yourself permission to expand your learning, to be curious, to follow any little overgrown path that interests you. It's not easy to stand up for the life you want, need and deserve. It's not easy to stand up to other grey people. It's not easy to take that breath and draw yourself up and then breathe out and release all the mundane, traditional ropes that have kept you from your truth. But then.
But then, it's easy. Light. Lightheaded. Warm. Quiet. And you smile. And you giggle. And you laugh out loud because you have realised that you can do whatever you want with your life. All those years, stretching out ahead, a playground of possibility and experiments and journeys. You do it because no one has told you to. You do it because people don't believe. You do it because you can and you should and you want to live, I mean really live.
I can't tell you. I wouldn't want to. This is your life and your journey and your choice. You look back over the last week. The last month. The last decade. And ask yourself that question, how long do you spend doing what you love. Honestly.
And then give yourself permission to look around. Follow your curiosity, do your research, listen and be inspired and inspire yourself and maybe, just maybe, you'll happen upon that little, thorn-covered, overgrown path. You'll check around to see who's with you. You start, hesitant, but then faster, and you're running, heart swelling and bursting with joy. It's you, it's your life, and it's all here, stretching out in front of you for ever and ever and miles and miles.
And now you're living, you're living. Really.
