new life, baby
the road to somewhere different
Dear human being,
What do you still need to let go of?
Better yet—what are you still holding onto that is keeping you from the life you want to live?
I’ve spent the summer answering these questions.
Going to the places I’ve needed to go, to face what I’ve needed to face, to walk out the other side, differently.
I’ve become more understanding of my own processing system in the process.
A quest for a label for my own differences has turned into a greater acceptance — into better honoring my own lived experience. But also, into choosing next steps that land me somewhere different than I’ve been.
And three little words have been guiding the way.
New life, baby.
We’ve been saying them out loud every time we choose something different than we always have.
It’s not the same as YOLO. But it is reminding us of this truth.
This is our only ride and we don’t want to talk ourselves out of things that can be really great, because we’re getting in our own way by focusing on what could go wrong.
Or because I’m responding the same way every time and landing right back where I’ve been before — and nothing feels more defeating in the moment.
I never expected Wyoming would be the place that cracked me open or dislodged these deep rutted parts of my mind that have kept me holding on for dear life.
But it was. A setting free.
I’d felt like a little girl, riding her horse named Copper. Galloping and galloping but not getting anywhere.
Now I feel like I’m actually, floating.
But first it took getting off the ride.
The mind is a carnival ride ~ Laramie
Back and forth, up, around and down.
I watched the carnival ride go.
Grazing the tree on the top right corner.
Because I notice everything.
I could hear it from my bed at night.
Kids screaming.
The whooshing sound.
How freeing would it be to just strap myself in and go for a ride?
Maybe it would knock some of this loose, that’s stuck in my head.
But as I watched in real time, I started to think about what it would be like to be strapped in that harness and wanting to get off.
This is what the mind does.
Goes around and around until we stop it and get off the ride.
I saw myself up there.
The grinding bolts.
The trapping in the sky.
It’s always the visuals for me, I’ve realized.
And so I asked myself:
What if I just stop inspecting everything so closely?
What if I start trusting again in something bigger than my mind’s findings?
What if I get off the ride?
No matter what they are or how much they’ve taken hold, we can all make the choice to live outside of these stories in our minds. But it’s got to be more than just giving them up to chance. That’s where I’d been hung up. It’s got to be giving it all up to something greater…
The divine offers an exit door if I’m ready to take it.
As I sat in a coffee shop and thought how separate I’ve felt from this divine knowing, a book that once changed my life suddenly stared back at me.
Outrageous Openness, by Tosha Silver, “Letting the divine take the lead.”
A borrow from therapy years back.
There it was again.
As if the universe called it in.
A campsite picked for us ~ The Snowies
As we drove up the mountain without knowing where we’d stay, I practiced calling in the divine by telling myself the campsite had already been picked for us.
With only an hour to sunset and no cell service, I began to feel the doubt creep in.
But as we decided to drive away from the guarantee of a paid campground, I could feel myself letting go a little bit.
With nowhere to be, what else did we have to do but go for a drive?
So on we went — passing babbling brooks and snow-topped peaks.
Suddenly I remembered a forest road I’d seen listed for its beautiful views. 318. Why not try it?
We almost opted out because the rocks were daunting, but we took it slow.
Not seeing an obvious spot for the night, we debated a turn around. Just then an SUV on its way out pulled up right next to us.
A girl and her dog popped out. “You guys looking for a spot? I have to leave mine and there’s a beautiful view of the meadow.”
We got out on foot to walk down and see for ourselves.
At first we just saw a campsite in the trees. And then, a path that opened up to a view like we’d never seen.
Our campsite had already been picked. All we had to do was be open to it.
What if we kept living life this way, and see where it takes us…
I’ve started to see fear like a highway, or like this repeated fork in the road.
In one direction is our human attempt to answer the unanswerable questions, and keep circling back to where we’ve been.
The other direction is total unsureness with no guarantee other than the promise of it delivering you to the depths of life you want to go.
New life, baby!
It’s the only way to land somewhere different.
Real life in motion
Video has become its own storytelling form for us to share our lived experience as it unfolds. You can watch our latest capture of our journey in Wyoming, here: