I'm in the middle of hosting the One Move Retreat on the Oregon Coast and my heart is overflowing.
There is so much tucked inside the corners of those words.
There are pieces of who I am, who I was, and who I am becoming.
There are stories and dreams I was afraid to speak out loud and love and that cliche about jumping off the cliff and your wings will appear (okay maybe it is more poetic and you instead come to "the edge" and your wings will carry you but either way it takes crazy guts and a belief in yourself that is astounding and terrifying).
There are years of finding my way and trusting that telling the true stories would lead me here and clunky conversations and deep hugs.
There are moments of wondering if I could carry this tune on my own and sitting in the quiet until the answers were revealed and dancing again and again to Taylor Swift's "Welcome to New York" while letting the words wash over me like a prayer of understanding.
And there is a fierce desire to just answer the question: Is this possible?
Today, I want to leave you with this: One reason to take self-portraits is to gather evidence of those questions deep in our soul. To find proof that we're inside the joy.
So often I take them to chronicle the tough stuff, to make sense out of the grief and the not knowing and the hope. And that is such a beautiful and important practice.
But it is just as important to chronicle the joy. The real, from the guts, "I'm just going to trust that it will always come back" joy.
If ever there was a moment to hashtag blessed this is it people. This. Is. It.
(Thank you for reading my words. For sitting beside me in that quiet. For pushing me to trust my crazy dreams. For listening to my true stories.)