I’m limping again. I can barely walk downstairs. Bruised knee and bloodshot eyes. My life in boxes. My heart in a tourniquet. Used up. Washed out. Pale moon shadow of the girl I wanted to be.

This is a love song to sing to ourselves at the bottom of the blackest pits (the ones we too often choose to leap into willingly).

I promise to get out of my own way.
Every single overwhelming emotion that I’ve ever felt has been temporary. This one is no different (even though each new occurrence might feel like the end of the world). I can choose to remove myself entirely and push pause when a feeling, relationship, or situation becomes overwhelming. If I cannot complete a task that I’ve set out for myself on a given day, I have the power to calmly remove myself from the responsibility and expectation until I’ve had a sound night’s sleep and a mental break from the situation. It is easier to be patient with the gift of hindsight. I choose conscious forward motion, even when I’m in tears.

My life is more than my home and my possessions.
I can’t even remember what I wore to my birthday party last year, let alone what furniture I had in my early 20s. Things shift, people change, and objects break. The sooner I realize that my sentimentality can be a trap, the sooner I can free myself from the unnecessary weight of perceived obligation. I choose experiences over things.

My movement has meaning.
It is my mission to embody empathy, play, irreverence, strength, and intelligence. Some days I may only hit one or two of these marks, but that doesn’t make my efforts fruitless. We are more impactful than we realize. A smile or an engaged conversation can have the power to seriously impact another person’s day. I choose to be a beacon of light.

My work is not disposable.
Whenever someone starts a website or a YouTube page or an Etsy store or anything that publicly displays their art, I often hear the same sentiment: “even if I could just make one person happy or feel less alone, that would be enough.” Well, apart from my beautiful readers who tell me how often they see themselves in my struggles, I’ve definitely made someone feel happy and less alone. Myself. I choose to focus on the work and not compare myself to others’ successes.

I am a gift the universe has chosen to give itself.
I didn’t ask to be here. None of us did. But I am here, and only I get to decide what to do with that reality. I want to live up to the weird, sloppy miracle that the void handed to me at birth. I choose to be a really good gift.

My eyes are on the stars.
This may cause me to trip over my own feet more days than I can count, but I’ve got to believe that dreaming big and aiming high are the only ways to make a bold impact. We will not leap forward if we are sloshing around in the mud. I choose to look up.

And so, as I sit here in a stark white, box-filled room with tear stained cheeks, I wanted to give this gift to you (and to myself). The gift of remembering the big picture. Of seeing the forest through the trees. Of taking a moment to reflect on why we put ourselves through hell for a dream or the spark of a grand adventure.

Sometimes, all it takes is a deep breath and a night off to redirect our soul’s purpose. Consider this my big, virtual bear hug for you – arms reaching out through time, space, and layers of code to brighten your day, wherever you are. You are so loved.

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