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I’ve given myself permission —my favorite phrase of the year— to move slower. With this slowness, I’ve been sifting through the memories of past that I’ve buried deep within. I’ve carried these moments with me, cataloguing them in the back of my mind until I was ready to surface them once more.
I’ve been allowing myself to get lost in thought, in daydream. I’ve been mulling through the fantasies that I set down long ago. The fantasy of what my life could look like as an adult.
I’ve been following the breadcrumbs bit-by-bit in the spaciousness of winter resolve. My body had forgotten these sacred pieces with time and programming.
I’ve been feeling an unbelievable amount of tension between what I’ve been working towards and what is actually manifesting in my physical reality. The feeling of fantasy is surfacing so the illusion of what could be is bridged with what actually is.
I used to dream that I would have a dog— or several. I’d be hiking and wearing clothes that fit me in the ways I liked and not the ways I was told to like. I’d be tattooed and unkempt. I’d be delighted by the fleeting moments that reminded me of my humanness. I’d feel fulfilled in myself and what I was offering to the world.
I’d be able to move fluidly between place. I’d be sure of my footing because I was reminded of purpose in my body and in my surroundings. And if I felt unwavering, I’d have this web of connection to remind me that it’s okay.
I’d be using the information given to me in the presence of observation to create meaningful pieces. I’d be working with my hands diligently allowing things to unfold as they may. My acts of care would wrap people in comfort.
I knew to my core that I would have enough. I would be enough as I was. This enoughness was less of a destination and more of a feeling.
This feeling was something that I only recognized in spaces outside of myself for a long time. Now I find it as I continue to nurture the places that feed me with joy.
I look around at my life now. I often forget just how far I’ve come. I forget that it’s taken an incredible amount of dismantling to get here. The older I get the more I’ve come to understand that by allowing myself to feel this way, as in taking up space in my own life, allows others to feel this way too.
I have people around me who aren’t asking me to be different or look different or show up in ways outside of my ability. I’m reminded of the beauty of being myself and being surrounded by others also being themselves— the beauty in seeing each other as we are without trying to fix or mold or transform.
I’m working to create space for celebration with my loved ones as someone who only knew this kind of joy by means of movie. I’m learning to recognize abundance in the silly little tasks of my silly little life. I’m opening up space for ease and joy and freedom.
As I sink into the last days of this calendar year, I’m reminded of the magic in the mundane. I’m reminded how the little tasks over time create a reality that I’d like to live in. I’m reminded how the steps towards truth allow the layers of facade to fall away. I’m reminded that voicing my dreams into this world allows them to come to life with purpose. I’m reminded that creating the things I seek in this lifetime allows others to vision the very things they seek in their own lives.
I honor that in order to recognize the big moments in life, I must equally hold the little moments in life with reverence before they pass me by.
Noticing the magic in the mundane,
Meredith
As a thank you for showing up here with me, please take 20% off monthly or annual paid subscription plans.