wild carrot

wild carrot aka queen anne’s lace

In this moment as I write to you, the humidity has rolled back in and the air feels thick, but at 8:00 am the sky was clear and the temperature much cooler.  I took the dogs to the beach and it was a slice of heaven.

The beauty of starting a Monday morning with a walk on the beach when I am not on holiday is not lost on me.

photos: Forrest K. Elliot

I remember a conversation I had with my niece Kate a while ago.  At the time, she was deeply frustrated because three years into her dream job and it was no longer making her happy.  She railed against the situation and I listened with genuine sympathy because I had lived through almost exactly what she was describing and, when you are in the middle of it, things feel awful– it feels like there isn’t a remote possibility that things could change or get better.

Of course, I don’t think she expected my response to her comment about one guy in particular who was ruining everything.

me:  awesome!

her:  did you just say, awesome?

me:  you need to thank him

her:  whose side are you on?

me:  Kate, you don’t understand — I am so grateful to every mean jerk I ever worked with.  I am truly grateful for every horrible aspect of the work situations that made me unhappy because I promise you, had they been merely moderately bad, or not pleasant but tolerable– I would still be there.  They literally had to be so bad that I had no choice, but to make a change.  They helped me.  They pushed me further along my path.

Of course what I didn’t tell her at the time is that this process never ends– not that you have to go through bad situations, necessarily, but that the nature of growth is to keep busting out of the space you once found to be perfectly sweet and cozy. That’s the piece I find a bit wearying– like, really?  There’s no there there?

Um, no.

But what helps is being in the moment with all it has to offer– if it is full of sweetness, savor it– if it is pinching and squeezing on you, know that change is coming– and remember, it’s your movie.  You are the writer, director and producer— every person crossing your path is just playing the part you wrote for them.  You don’t like a scene you thought you wanted?  Cut it and reshoot, baby.

bisous, e

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