And here we are. It’s May. Already May. Only May. Which one? It depends on your perspective.
It’s Already May
On one hand, I’m caught up in the anxiety of feeling behind. No matter how much I do, it never feels like it’s enough. I try to stay the course to my desired outcomes and results, yet I find myself wandering in the graveyard of broken dreams and abandoned ideas.
Despite taking time to dig deep and get clear on what I desire to create this year, I still feel like I’m lacking in a clear direction for my focus. I’ve thrown everything at this.
My 3 Words
I did the “three words” exercise that I do each year. After weeks, I finally hit upon what I thought was a winning trio, but it’s not working for me. It’s not enough to focus me.
Defining My Areas of Focus
I overhauled my life plan. I identified my top 7 areas of focus. I created a vision for each one. But that, too, isn’t working for me. If anything, it’s creating more confusion. I see how many parts of my life are in conflict. Progress in one area seems to come at the expense of another.
Listening to My Intuition
I’ve worked to strengthen my intuition and deepen my listening. What does my heart tell me? But what’s there is simply exhaustion. It wants to rest. It wants to regroup. I thought I gave it time to regroup.
Clear and Confused
The irony here is that I’ve never been more clear in my vision. In a call with a potential new coach several weeks ago, I laid out my vision. I was able to articulate specifics about how I desire my life to look and feel like in the day-to-day and in the bigger picture. I have enough specifics while still being open to how it might unfold; I’m not tied to the specific form of it.
This was a first for me. In the past I’ve not been this clear on my vision.
Progress, I suppose.
And yet, when it comes to a plan to bring this vision into form, I’m in a fog. My attention is called by so many conflicting things and I don’t know where to direct my focus. In every moment, I feel pulled between multiple high priority items. No matter which direction I choose, a part of me feels like I’m making the wrong decision.
I don’t feel any closer to realizing my vision. I am stumbling in my efforts even to receive proper guidance and a clear plan.
It’s already May.
When will this all come together??
It’s Only May
Last week, I admitted to a friend
I am ready for this year to be over.
She admitted that she, too, was ready for this year to be over. It’s only May. Isn’t this a little too early for wanting the year to end?
Where did things fall apart?
January started with promise. Deals closed. I had promising new business. I led a workshop and knocked it out of the park. I strengthened relationships at a conference. I helped a friend launch his course. I taught a session for my friends course. My work was received really well. I was optimistic. This was going to be the year.
I was gearing up to launch my first program, and then…. things started to fall apart.
Tests and Trials
I got sick. Nothing crazy. The typical winter flu stuff. But it knocked me out for a couple of weeks. And then it didn’t go away. It settled in: a severe case of burnout. Some nights I slept for 10-13 hours. This is not normal for me. And despite what you may have read about sleep, my personal experience is that, for me, more is not better. Anything over 6.5-7 hours and my productivity is drained.
I told myself that this is normal for winter: our bodies go into hibernation mode. I surrendered to it.
I was censored: I shared a personal experience on social media, a real life situation where I called on the skills I practice in meditation. Certain people were uncomfortable with how it possibly reflected on them, and demanded I delete the post.
I could have pushed back. They had no real authority to force my hand and I could have tested their resolve. But in my state of recovering from the flu and exhaustion I didn’t have the energy to fight that battle. So I surrendered to it and I complied. But deleting my social media post didn’t erase the feelings of what went down. People I trusted shamed me into taking an action that I knew, in my heart, I didn’t have to take.
I felt betrayed. Angry. Sad. It didn’t sit well in me.
Just as that was episode was starting to fade, and as I was trying to get back on my feet energetically, my website was hacked. I didn’t even know where to turn. I didn’t know how to handle it. I felt violated, scared, distraught, angry, sad, and also defiant and powerless. All at the same time.
It felt like everyone was trying to stifle my voice.
And just as spring started to emerge, when I thought I might finally see a glimmer of light, a long simmering issue erupted into a 5-alarm fire. I thought I had this under control with the help of professionals, but it roared back with a force. It demanded that I stop everything and focus on it. Sometimes delegation isn’t enough. Sometimes you still have to get in the mud.
Any one of these things alone would be fairly manageable. The torrent of one after the other has made me feel like I’m riding in a life raft in the ocean during a hurricane.
I’m getting sea sick.
It’s only May, and I am ready for this year to be over. I am ready for this life to be over.
To be clear: not my life, but this life. This life that I’ve been living lately doesn’t feel like it’s my life. It feels like it’s some stranger’s life. Like I’m in some weird Freaky Friday situation. I feel like I’m locked out of my life and don’t have the key.
It’s like my worst nightmare became my reality.
I guess some dreams do come true. Be careful what you wish for.
Counting My Blessings
Many times, I have heard myself say “this year can’t get any worse.” When I catch myself, I immediately retract the statement.
I know better than to tempt fate. Every day without fail, I make a list of what I’m grateful for. It’s part of my Daily Recap, my evening journaling ritual that I’ve done without fail for over 3 years.
So I know that it could be worse in so many ways.
I am healthy. In December, my doctors said I’m in better shape now than I was 5 years ago (the last time I had seen a doctor).
I have the use of all of my limbs. I can see with both eyes. I can hear. When I wake up in the morning, I can get out of bed without assistance and stand on my own two feet. I can walk on my own. These may seem like little things, but they are not. Not everyone has full mobility or full control of their body.
How often do we take these things for granted?
I am blessed with a family who loves me and is willing to help me out to the extent possible for them. Although I sometimes feel lacking in the type of emotional and structural support I desire, I know that support is available to me.
Sometimes it feels like people forget or don’t care, but in my heart I know this is not true. I spent years building relationships. I have given to my relationships over time and I trust that those relationships can withstand my long absence from social media and my recent hibernations.
The truth is that support is available to me, if I am willing to ask for and receive it.
Although this sh*tstorm of issues threatens to send me into overwhelm on a daily basis, my moments of extreme chaos have been rare. I can see how much I’ve expanded my capacity to hold space for all of this. The investments I’ve made in myself — meditation practice, learning to hold space for myself, being with my emotions instead of escaping them — are all paying off.
I can see the gifts in this. If I can use my experience to help others, the pain will serve a greater purpose.
And I know I can do this. This is my gift: to extract the lessons and patterns from any experience and help others apply it to their lives.
The challenge I face is how and when to bring it into form. How to find the people who need this wisdom. How to deliver it to them without getting in my own way.
It’s already May. The weight of the contribution I want to make threatens to suffocate me. I’m desperate to find the right mentor to help me harness my ideas into a focused plan that I can implement.
Until then, all I can do is keep taking action, one step at a time.
Divine timing doesn’t follow a calendar. I must continue to trust, and remind myself:
It’s only May.