I so deeply appreciate the way Tracee Ellis Ross just puts it out there with these words because even though I sometimes say that the space between where I am and where I want to go can feel overwhelming, the truth is that if I stand back too far to look at it, sometimes it can actually feel like it kisses the edge of terrifying.
But this is when I have to remind myself that I'm building the bridge one move at a time within the real daily life I live over here.
I'm not putting everything else on hold to suddenly start building that bridge 24 hours a day with a crew of 150 people.
I'm also not putting everything else on hold to try to build it alone.
That plan doesn't work either. I've tried it with many a "decluttering" attempt over the years. I know me. I know what happens when I stop everything and dive into something by myself (or even with a little bit of help). I am excited and have so much motivation in the beginning so I make the project about five times bigger than it should be. Then at the halfway mark, I get exhausted and lonely and overwhelmed and new piles of emotional and physical stuff start to puddle around me.
So here's what I am doing: Taking one step, then another, and then another and making it happen at a pace that works for this crazy, full, beautiful life.
And on the days when I step back and think, "Shit. There is a lot more to go before I get to the other side," I ask myself, "Okay so what small move could you make? Just one little move."
This is why I take photos to gather evidence of these moves. This is why I want to talk about this idea over and over again right now. This is why I make lists of the moves I need to make BUT ALSO lists that celebrate the moves I've already made.
This is why I push myself to see that the goal isn't actually to get to the other side and stay there forever and ever and leave everything behind. Really, what I'm trying to do is build a few bridges where I can go back and forth between everyday life and the longings inside me.
Between the place where I'm making lunches and taking Ellie to school and doing the mom thing and living where we need to live and the desire to spend more time on the coast where I'm playing with paint and paper and walking for hours alone.
Between the longing of wanting to travel and do more retreats and see you gorgeous souls reading these words face to face and the reality of being in a season of life where I need to be here more than there.
Between the tiny desire to just go back to bed and ask someone else to run this business for the day and knowing that listening to your stories and telling mine feeds my soul.
It's knowing that the really good days are going to be filled with more pockets of time spent sitting down on a quilt in the space between and coloring and reading and resting and gathering with loved ones and feeling all the feelings and maybe even eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and letting myself really sink into the knowledge that this life is a pretty darn good one.
I've come to understand that it's really about creating a space where I can deeply know that this is the life I want to live as I find ways to build those bridges and walk back and forth and rest and play and live.
To really see the beauty and feel the possibility in your bones, you have to let what you're building inspire you to keep building. You do this by paying attention and noticing how you feel, really feel, in your life.
If it doesn't inspire you, then honey, you might be building someone else's bridge.
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, having conversations about how you build this bridge one move at a time are the conversations I'm really interested in having these days. If you're interested in more stories around this idea, sign up for my (almost) weekly newsletter.