It feels a little bit like the storm is over. There’s a settled sense of calm that I don’t take for granted. The knot in my stomach has loosened, my breath has returned, a new normal is starting to form, and it’s time to decide what to build on this new foundation.
Regardless of how we come to a new beginning, at some point we have to ask: What now? And we know we’re really healing when we ask it like this:
What wild, weird, wonderful possibilities exist here?
I’ve found myself becoming what Marie Forleo calls a Multi-Passionate Creative. It started with writing, and then photography, and then there was this call deeper that led me to complete a coaching certificate. The inevitable question then is: How do all of these pieces fit together?
The common thread, it seems, is that everything is in resolute pursuit of a full life.
Mostly we hear this expression at the end of someone’s life. “They lived a full life,” we’ll say, if in our estimation they lived enough. But do we ever pause to think about what that means? Does it refer only to the number of years? Do we ever consider whether we’re living a full life now?
A full life is a big-picture life. It’s chaos and joy and mess and grace. It’s running around – sometimes running ragged – but also circling around with the people we love, doing life together. It’s being here for the full experience. It’s allowing ourselves to feel hurt when we are, but then finding ways to pursue our healing, and though it all, still choosing to relish the good in life. It’s growing and figuring things out and adapting and rolling with the punches. It’s forgiving ourselves when we screw up, and finding peace when life stubbornly refuses to line up. It’s contentment and restlessness, trying new things and navigating the seasons. Sometimes it’s surprising, sometimes it’s wild, sometimes it’s unceasingly mundane. It’s loving well, holding on to hope, keeping the faith, and trusting that all of it belongs.
It’s all here, if we choose to be present for it. Who’s in, friends?