8.27.25

You have to give up your old life in order to start your new one. 

I have been saying this to myself over and over and over again. 

These words have never rung as true as they have lately. 

I keep recalling the night before my 31st birthday. 

I was alone in my apartment. 

SO TIRED of being alone. 

I felt so stuck. 

So unsatisfied. 

Like, I worked so hard to get here and NOW WHAT!?

This is it??? 

Spending every night alone bored as fuck by myself? 

I remember that very moment, laying on my couch BEGGING the universe for a shift. 

ANY SHIFT. 

Literally anything to make me feel like I was moving forward with my life. 

The next day, I fell and hit my head - and everything just started unraveling. 

Yes, I’ve manifested a shit ton of good into my life since I made that prayer. 

I met the girl of my dreams. 

Manifested my dream home through her. 

Got invited to be a full time teacher at my favorite yoga studio in town. 

Sold out my first retreat in Tulum. 

The list rolls on and on… 

But all of this came at a cost. 

The universe had to make a lot of space for me to have more. 

This summer, I have suffered so much loss. 

My best friend abandoned me.

I lost my love for shibari. 

I gave up my safety blanket, Maryjane. 

I've even been contemplating resigning from my leadership role at the organization I’ve devoted the last ten years of my life to. 

Although I was fully ready to move out of my old apartment, as I packed up my final bags to say goodbye the other night, 

I had to stop for a moment and take it all in. 

Giving up that old tiny apartment in order to move into my dream home just felt too fucking hard. 

You have to give up your old life in order to start your new one. 

So much change is happening, and I’ve fully let go and finally loosened my grip on life. 

Through all of this incredible loss, the weird thing is that - I’m not feeling victimey about it at all. 

Like I haven’t had a single thought for a moment of - poor me. 

I really haven’t. 

Instead, the trust that I have in the universe is stronger than ever before. 

I feel so clearly guided towards whatever it is they are planning for me. 

My guides are moving shit out of the way left and right. 

And sure, part of me is like what the fuck you guys why are you doing this to me. 

But at the same time I’m like, okay, I see that you are moving things that I didn’t realize needed to be to moved. 

I see that you are making space.

I have never been in as deep of a trust and knowing and devotion to my own path as I am today. 

I have never been so convicted in my choices and my actions moving forward. 

I have not a shred of a doubt that all of this is meant to be happening exactly as it’s happening. 

But that doesn’t mean there isn’t an immeasurable level of grief moving through my body. 

Bubbling through my heart, daring to spill out over the surface. 

It’s day 21 of my sober journey and I feel NUMB. 

I feel sad and I feel numb. 

I feel sad and I feel tired.

I forced myself to go to a yoga class tonight to move some of this energy through me. 

As I laid there in the darkness of savasana with eyes wide open I felt like nothing had moved. 

Like it’s all trapped inside of me. 

Like why can’t I throw a fit and get pissed off and cry and MOVE THIS THROUGH ME? 

Tonight, during yoga was the first night that I really wanted to have a drink. 

All I could think about was how nice it would be to walk over to Raum and order a couple of whiskeys on ice. 

How nice would it be to invite my friends to meet me to shout over the loud music and smoke too many spliffs. 

I started to convince myself that the ONLY way to move this grief out of my body is to go out and get fucked up. 

As if that will leave me feeling lighter, clearer and more relieved when I wake up tomorrow. 

Idk but that sounds like an addict mindset to me. 

As I write this, my mind is clinging that sweet taste of whiskey and the way it cleanses my energy. 

I resist. 

My girlfriend wanted to watch the new Thunderbolt movie with me when I got home. 

I LOVED Florence Pugh in Black Widow so she knew that I would be down. 

This movie was so deep. The superhero had a dark side - one where he sends everyone he touches back into their most traumatic memory. 

I don’t want to give anything away but man - by the end of the move I was in tears. 

THIS IS WHAT ART IS FOR.

The cathartic release. 

It brought up so many of my wounded memories. 

And as I tried to let the tears flow, my girlfriend offered me logical advice to snap me out of it. 

And I got mad. 

I DON’T NEED ANY WISDOM. 

I NEED TO BE IN MY PROCESS. 

DON’T TRY TO CHANGE IT PLEASE.

My mind is fine and clear and knowing.

But my body is buried in grief. 

My body is begging to move this energy in any way that it can. 

And when I finally got the tears to fall - I didn’t need any sort of conversation to console me. 

I just needed to be in the quiet and let myself move through this. 

This is a somatic thing that’s arising in me. 

Because here is the truth that I am being taught:

Everything is impermanent. 

EVERYTHING IS IMPERMANENT. 

All the greatest gifts that the universe sends my way has an expiration date. 

This is not a curse on my name. 

This is life. 

The town of Tulum will be different soon. 

The yoga studio will eventually close. 

My favorite people will likely move away. 

Tai will die one day. 

My mom will die one day.

I will die one day.  

Nothing, absolutely nothing is permanent. 

I have always known this, but I feel in this moment that I truly understand it. 

The WISDOM is arising in me. 

This is why I cannot cling to anything. 

I must walk through life with an open palm and an open mind. 

It’s not nihilistic and it’s not cynical either. 

It’s just the truth. 

It’s just the wisdom that I have been served. 

The only constant in life is change. 

The only thing I can absolutely count on is that things are ALWAYS going to change.

And I cannot even grasp onto the perfection of this moment. 

Because as I grasp - it will disappear and be but a shadow. 

Just like in thunderbolt. 

Or whatever that movie was called.

I took a hot shower. 

I drank some cold water. 

I sat outside under the stars naked. 

And I am still stuck in this numb energy. 

But I know that this too will change. 

I know that this too is impermanent.