Dudes. That extremely overused quote about getting to the end of your rope and hanging on is pounding in my brain today. And my heart has removed itself from my chest and is flopping around on the floor like some epileptic rump roast. Welcome to the edge of my Comfort Zone.
Today is the day I didn't really want to see - Pay For Two Houses While Trying To Live My Dreams Day. I know it's happened to others. It might have even happened to other writers. Maybe writers who bought a condo in their flush ad copywriting days and then suddenly realized they had to live their dreams or they'd start dying and then committed to their creative work only to find that mortgages and aspiring memoirists/screenwriters aren't a comfy mix in the early days.
Maybe other folks are completely familiar with waves of toxic stress acid crashing in their stomachs and thoughts like 'Just run away! To the mountains of Peru!' teasing their minds and the complete absence of, y'know, sleep.
My friend Erin gets it. She opened a homeopathic clinic and shop when she was something like 20. She had no freaking clue what she was doing. She just knew that she wanted a store. She went through the whole sleepless night thing. Approximately five million times. Sitting at her desk, staring at the bank statements. Willing bigger numbers to appear at the bottom of that page.
This is what happens when you hang out at the edge. When you toe the line of everything you already know and get a face full of everything you don't.
It's interesting.
Giselle told me not to be a victim the other day. Point blank. Don't even go there. And the key to Erin's case was being unafraid of death. When you aren't afraid of dying, everything else kinda seems like small potatoes. And now, after all those sleepless nights, she's doing great. Of course. Because that's what happens when you commit to your dream.
So. No victims. No fear. Those are the rules of this road.
We're gonna need faith out here, though. Curiosity will help, too. We'll need to watch out for signs and messages. They'll tell us if we're on the right track. Or not. We need to keep positive. Relentlessly so.
I say 'we' because I know I'm not alone. I know you're out here, trying to stay vertical on the edge of some big cliff with violent surf beating down the rocks and a storm rolling in. I know you are. Maybe you aren't sure you can do this, either. Maybe your foot is slipping and the path is deteriorating and it's dark and cold and you think that means you should just turn around and go home. I know that thought is comforting, but you understand that home, that place you thought would make you happy but didn't...isn't there anymore. This edge is home now. I'm sure there's a warm, safe place up ahead, but right now we need to keep going. I'll hang on if you hang on. Deal?
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