You know how much I feel this. All of it. Every word. My poor beau tries every few days to inquire about the project I'm working on - the secret, heart project that I want to build into a business. And each time he tries to show support by asking questions, I feel my whole body go rigid because I'm not ready to chat about it. I'm not ready to disclose. I'm not even ready to DO anything much yet because, like you, I'm still sitting up on that cliff's edge, looking around, and wondering if it's really safe to jump ... wondering if I have it in me to fly, or if I will plummet to the ground. And if I do drop earthward, will I bounce? You say patience is one of your toughest battles. I hear that, and I raise you uncertainty, which I'm pretty sure is closely related. Give me a job to do - a clear directive - and I'm on it. I'll kill it (metaphorically, of course). But sitting out here in the wide open nothing with the wind whipping past and the stars swirling around and around to indicate the passage of time in which I haven't DONE anything (or much of anything), and I may as well be a part of the fucking mountain.
Ok ... I'll stop ranting. You clearly triggered me. 😆 Nice work. 💜
I feel like this one might could have come with a trigger warning based on how many people have written to say "Me too", but wow, I couldn't have described it better than, "I may as well be a part of the fucking mountain." We may need our own postal service delivering mail to this mountain because it does feel like my new residence. And I totally agree that patience and uncertainty are likely related, like cousins who somehow look exactly alike on the outside. I'd like to say that once I finally get to the summit, I'll catch you if the whole flying thing doesn't work out, but I hate making promises I'm not certain I can keep. On that note, it might be time for another dirt nap.
I'm just glad we can wave to each other from our respective mountain tops and know we're not the only ones stuck up here wondering what's next. I feel like our Substacks are like carrier pigeons ... delivering messages back and forth across the void. Brave little birds. xo
You know how much I feel this. All of it. Every word. My poor beau tries every few days to inquire about the project I'm working on - the secret, heart project that I want to build into a business. And each time he tries to show support by asking questions, I feel my whole body go rigid because I'm not ready to chat about it. I'm not ready to disclose. I'm not even ready to DO anything much yet because, like you, I'm still sitting up on that cliff's edge, looking around, and wondering if it's really safe to jump ... wondering if I have it in me to fly, or if I will plummet to the ground. And if I do drop earthward, will I bounce? You say patience is one of your toughest battles. I hear that, and I raise you uncertainty, which I'm pretty sure is closely related. Give me a job to do - a clear directive - and I'm on it. I'll kill it (metaphorically, of course). But sitting out here in the wide open nothing with the wind whipping past and the stars swirling around and around to indicate the passage of time in which I haven't DONE anything (or much of anything), and I may as well be a part of the fucking mountain.
Ok ... I'll stop ranting. You clearly triggered me. 😆 Nice work. 💜
I feel like this one might could have come with a trigger warning based on how many people have written to say "Me too", but wow, I couldn't have described it better than, "I may as well be a part of the fucking mountain." We may need our own postal service delivering mail to this mountain because it does feel like my new residence. And I totally agree that patience and uncertainty are likely related, like cousins who somehow look exactly alike on the outside. I'd like to say that once I finally get to the summit, I'll catch you if the whole flying thing doesn't work out, but I hate making promises I'm not certain I can keep. On that note, it might be time for another dirt nap.
I'm just glad we can wave to each other from our respective mountain tops and know we're not the only ones stuck up here wondering what's next. I feel like our Substacks are like carrier pigeons ... delivering messages back and forth across the void. Brave little birds. xo
What a lovely thought…maybe my message is coming by carrier pigeon. 🧡