Isn’t it a miraculous thing, to even for a moment, feel as though everything is completely and utterly aligned.
It’s the same feeling as ten metres before the finish line, a few brush strokes from your completed painting, a rainy day puzzle finally clicking into place, a few paragraphs from what you know will be the end of the story. Except, this isn’t the end. This is my beautiful beginning.
My automatic assumption is that everything is going to go bad again. Maybe one of my people will be hit by a car, or maybe I will. Maybe there will be a cancer diagnosis, an unwanted pregnancy announcement, a termination notice on the life I’ve just started to learn how to live.
But what if there wasn’t.
What if I demanded that it only gets better from here on out. What if I just decided I was happy right here and now and that I would never settle for anything less.
What if I could really do it all. It’s foolishly hopeful and utterly stupid. But what if I could be all the things I want to be and love all the people I want to love. What if I could wander from beaches to mountain tops, barefoot and wild like the flowers that grow on both the shores and the cliffs.
What if I stopped listening to all the people telling me that I couldn’t?
What if every time a conversation like that started to waltz into my life, I pulled the finger at it and politely told it that it had no right to be in my life and that it needed to go find another more insecure participant.