Your Job Is To Live

I feel guided to write about a theme that has been coming up in my life a lot lately, and it’s the idea of permanence and impermanence. Fear of change is such a pervasive concept, that I’m not even sure we understand, fully, how it manifests in our lives. I was talking to my friend Angela (not her real name to protect her privacy) regarding the impermanence of things and how we become so attached to ideas of permanence that we forget how much of a blessing change is, can be, and how easy it is to change. Angela’s dilemma stems from the heart, as the person whom she loves recently purchased a home a significant distance away from where she lives at the moment. She asked me, “Does this mean he’s planning a life without me in it?” “Of course not!” I say. “He’s simply establishing himself somewhere.” We further discuss the fact that this guy is in the midst of a job transition and has a lot of things that are up in the air. The ‘permanence’ of having a home may be the o

I sit here on my deck this morning, flowers in planters, the sun shining, my dogs taking lazy dog naps by my side. I think back on the last, six months in wonder and awe. Not long ago, I was talking to my friend Michelle, both of us wondering how in the hell we were going to change our lives for the better. How were we going to manifest this life we wanted where we were happy? Just happy. Not much more. Just happy. And fulfilled. I sit here today with so much joy in my heart. I have been infinitely blessed to take such a journey across oceans and beyond. What I’m about to tell you is just a tiny piece of the greater, more brilliant picture: Two months ago, I set out on a journey to find myself. Well, we say “find myself” when we’re not really sure what it is we’re seeking—or what, exactly, we’ll find. And I did find myself. I found myself and so much more. You see, when you travel alone, the mere thought is somewhat daunting. You think: how can I keep myself entertained?