Meditation: Calm, Deep Sleep Length: 10 minutes Where: In Bed, Los Angeles How It Felt: Like nothing, then over
I don’t know what’s going on at all. I am so exhausted. I haven’t properly recovered since my trip to Michigan, somehow. I’m starting work on my next directing project, and trying to get life back on track out here, and I’m just not moving forward much.
I think I’m going through a huge mental and emotional shift, and it’s taking a lot out of me. That book I read before my trip, Untamed by Glennon Doyle, hit me like a bag of bricks. It sort of shook me out of a fog, and woke me up to who I am, what I really believe is important. That’s a lot to deal with, and I didn’t have time to process it before I was thrown into a full house and kids and party planning and party having and family and a huge sleep shift (and deficit) and everything else.
I have to have time to process.
You know when you run the AC too hard and it just sort of burns out? That’s how my brain feels right now. I can’t seem to get it up and running again.
I know it was the right time to read that book because it solidified all of the lessons I’d been learning during this pandemic. If all the different ways I’ve been growing were each a thread, this tied them together into a beautiful picture of how life could and should be, how I could feel. I’ve been shedding my old self like crazy, ridding my life of harmful stories I’ve been telling myself, letting go of toxic people, and finally releasing old fears. It’s been amazing.
It’s also been scary, overwhelming at times, and very much leaning into the unknown. This book reminded me that I have to let so much of the familiar burn if I want the new and healthier. This is terrifying. It is also thrilling and absolutely necessary.
Yesterday I experienced the best housecleaning of my life. Baseboards wiped, everything shiny and new, roses made from the ends of the toilet paper rolls. I came home and thought, okay. Here it is. Your new start. Fresh and clean. You can do and make and be anything here.
Then I panicked and basically shut down.
There is a lot of grief that comes from letting go of your old ways. You have to grieve the relationships you wish you had, the family ties you were projecting, the people you wanted to believe in that really just let you down. You have to say goodbye to a lot of old dreams to make room for your real ones. You have to swallow a lot of pride and say, “this isn’t what I wanted. I’m so sorry I let you believe I did,” to a lot of people.
You know better, and that means you have to do better- or what was it all for?
I guess I just needed a little time to accept it all and make peace with my past. I want to forgive myself for putting my needs and desires so far down the list for so long. For not speaking up so many times. For letting parts of me die inside to make other people comfortable and happy. For worrying more about offending someone than doing what I know is right.
Not all the time. That wasn’t just the way I lived my life, exactly. But I know every time I let those things happen, a little piece of me withered away.
Change is honestly never just happy and exciting because it absolutely requires letting something die. You have to make room for the new and improved, and you only have so much space in life. I can’t still be “likable” and “agreeable” and be the powerful woman I know I am. I can’t be someone who can fit into any space with ease. I have to start using my energy to adapt the space to who I am, or leaving it altogether, unless it fits me like a glove to begin with.
This is a lot.
It is also what I was born to do.
I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s been fitful and full of intense, sometimes scary dreams. I dream I found a baby, and I’m carrying it around, looking desperately for its parents, but no one will claim it, and it’s now my responsibility. It feels good to hold the baby but I know it doesn’t belong with me.
I dream that people keep coming into my home, and there is trash scattered everywhere. I’m embarrassed and angry that it was wrecked, but trying to clean up and explain, asking the people to leave and they won’t.
I dream that I’m in a deep hole, quarantining with people who refused to get vaccinated, and they are passing around cocktails and laughing while I try to stay away on the other side, not wanting to get sick.
I wake up every hour or two, often drenched in sweat. I know my dreams are telling me what’s happening inside, but I don’t want to process them. I just want to sleep.
I tried a sleep meditation last night. I fell asleep before the first sentence ended and woke up to the last few words. It took a long time to fall back asleep again. I’m not sure what I need, exactly. Maybe just time. Steve comes tomorrow, and we have a wonderful weekend planned with just one exciting party- the rest is for resting. We are both exhausted. Maybe putting my soul next to its mate will help and feel healing.
I’m trying green juice and good food and comfort food and I tried getting outside in the sunshine and exercising and then not getting off the couch for hours and snuggling Tigre and reading a good book and watching a great show and writing about it and talking about it and being quiet about it. I don’t know. Nothing is helping much.
Maybe just time.
And, soon, being around my people. In my community. In my industry. All the things I love.
I don’t know. That’s kind of the whole thing right now- not knowing.
I guess it’s not time to do anything so much as it’s time to be, and just see what happens.
Terrifying. Thrilling. Everything.