Passion isn’t something you stumble upon in the dark or find in the arms of another, Nor is it a rush of energy or an…
How many times have you walked out of your house without your left eye, metaphorically speaking?
I know how to install laminate flooring and power wash old paint off of concrete porches. And I know how to repaint them, too. I have power tools and I know how to use them, generally speaking. I can move entire shelving units and beds by myself between the floors of my house because I’ve had to. I’ve also mastered the art of dining and going to movies alone, which is a skill that not everyone has the courage to even dare build. I pay my bills on time and my dogs have lives that most people would envy, so please stop telling me I’m a great catch.
This morning, I crawled on a plane at a ridiculous hour for a Sunday and hoped beyond hope that I’d just be able to put my headphones in and sleep. This usually isn’t a problem for me. I have a Go Away vibe that goes toe to toe with Captain Von Trapp at the first sight of Maria in The Sound of Music.
My inner English librarian – who sounds like Dame Maggie Smith and dresses like the Dowager Countess of Grantham on Downton Abbey – says, “The girl who was constantly critical is now faced with one of the biggest challenges/opportunities of her life and her own brain is reminding her of times when she succeeded? Preposterous!”
But there it was. Staring me in the third eye. One of my own most-successful-rituals reminding me that this isn’t a time to be doubtful of my abilities.