The Life You Choose Starts Here

There was a point in 2016 where I made a conscious choice to let my happiness fly free, to allow my deep laughter to shake the chandeliers, and to go forth unabashedly joyful!!! 

Does it mean my life was all flowers and unicorns? Uh.....no. It does mean that I made a choice in every moment to focus on the lighter side. Being grateful and joyful IS a choice that takes practice, and a willingness to release the story....

Yep, there is a catch. You need to change your wardrobe.....no more old worn out campshirts of stories.

What does this look like in "real life"? One wardrobe change I've made is dropping the "single mom" moniker. I noticed how my entire being shifted when I started to say that, the last time. And that awareness allowed me to choose a different description: I have children. And, I choose to be single right now. The feel is totally different, and completely accurate.

There is joy in it! Celebration. Choice. Empowerment. Truth. 

I invite you to notice. Listen. Feel. Your body, your life energy, will give you clues on what you have outgrown, what it is time to release, and what you need to embrace more of. 

Listen. 

Notice. 

That was 10 years ago. This realization was the leaping off point for many deeper insights to begin really questioning things I hadn’t really thought about before. I just accepted them as fact. 

Have you ever heard yourself say something that 2 seconds ago you were certain of, and yet when it registered on your eardrums after just coming out of your own mouth, something inside of you goes “uh….well….that may not be ENTIRELY accurate..”  

THAT’S where it starts. The elaborately constructed fallacy starts to unravel. If you want, start pulling at the threads of those questioned thoughts. Start asking questions. You will get answers. Be patient.

To give you an example: A few years ago, someone asked me if I would like to join them for a glass of wine, and asked “red or white”?. My automatic answer was “Red. I hate white wine.” And it “sparkled”….felt gritty like glitter in my mouth. So I started asking questions. It took probably a week to get the entire “story”, but the Cliff notes are this: I hated white wine because most of my memories of my sister involve her holding onto a glass of white wine, not because of the taste. To be totally honest, that connection with white wine had kept me from even trying it. And yet, “I hate white wine” came out of my mouth whenever asked.

After working through all of this, I am happy to say that “I choose a nice pinot gris, well chilled.”