A Return to Self

"If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing,

then don't write, because our culture has no use for it." Anais Nin

I have always yearned to be an unapologetic free-spirit. I didn’t recognize the bohemian blueprint already in place. In my 20s, I directed my natural instinct to work hard, pride in sweat equity and resolute determination into the business world. I imagined myself climbing the corporate ladder and making scads of money. I didn’t see the irony of getting my first suit (purple) from Victoria Secret rather than something black and sensible from Macy’s. I had creative excuses for every job that lasted only a year… and thereby still believed I belonged in that corporate world, on that ladder. With luck, opportunity and nerve I followed suppressed dreams and became a writer and a full blown earth mama. I made our medicines, tended a garden, sewed clothes.

For ten years, my work consisted of writing with the muse, traveling to festivals to sell my books, attending book signings and organizing/leading local, national and international retreats on empowerment. Then the Grim Reaper settled in for seven long years, blotting out the light. Terrified and alone, with two young boys to raise, I believed the world wouldn’t accept me as I am and it would be best if I hid the gypsy girl, just for a little bit. Wasn’t I always told I was just too much…. fill in the blank. But, bless her, my wild child ALWAYS finds a way out…

With scant tolerance for being locked away, one day, whether I believe myself to be ready, she destroys her prison and torches the bridge. Maybe so I’d never walk that path again. But instead of learning, I felt shame and sought out one box after another because that safety and security is what I need to protect and provide for my boys. Right?People often ask me if I’m still writing. It hurts so very much to say no.After seven years every cell in our body has been regenerated. We are literally not the same person unless we pick up the old stories. At a recent ritual I decided to no longer identify with the pain – to cut the ties, to choose joy and believe in the best possible case scenario.A few days ago the universe released me from a job that did not honor my authentic self with perfect orchestration.. this time my wild child didn’t torch the bridge, but arranged for a kind-hearted separation and lots of emotional support. I felt the presence of spirit, but was still unsure how to proceed.

Today I discovered of an inheritance from my Grandpy Joe, the first to die in that deluge of loss seven years ago. Clearly, its time to let go of the past and put my EarthySpirit back in front where she belongs. I’m still scared. I wish I wasn’t. I have trouble holding the vision of a life of bliss… But there are moments when I’m flying.. soaring through the best case scenarios…