Second Story Window

I feel the blues creeping in a little

But they aren’t boredom (I try to name them) I don’t forget as often anymore that I have things to read or see or places to be, things to look forward to.

Sometimes I am hard on myself for not writing more, but I know I’ll get there someday. It’s just in me. So I can be comforted knowing it’s always there. And I can look forward to the peaceful moments in the future that are full of me writing writing writing. I just have so much more to tell.

I’m not as tired, this is another good sign, at least not as much as I feel like I’ve gotten used to being tired over the past 5 years. I can see some healed spots from here, and it’s probably important to keep track of this sort of thing. 

This fall will be 5 years marking my leap out the window - that’s the way it felt, everywhere but my body. I chose to change my life completely, marriage, motherhood, me- I jumped out of a skyscraper and walked away. 

I’m saying there are some stunt people who can do that in real life, physically. My *spirit* is a stunt person. And it parachuted us out of the highest airplane so that I could really live. 

Or maybe it was a second story window or a step down from some really steep steps. (Down to the ground- not down in position in life. It’s good to get low and feel the earth in your body.) Up, down, side to side, doesn’t matter just keep moving. Unless you need to stop and that is still a move, a choice, it’s still an action. You are not as inactive as you think you are. 

And so now I’m living. 5 years in and It is not for the weak, and It makes you weak. You need all your strength all of the time, and you’re totally capable of all of this. That’s how you got here. This is a letter to yourself from the present to the past to the future. I love you.