I watched her, with my mouth wide-opened as she happily bounced out of her car and into the Dollar Tree Store. In an instant, I imagined her life and who she was. I envisioned her entire wonderfully planned day and groaned. She had long, beautiful, purple curls hanging in her face. That deep, rich purple that I would've loved to have dyed my hair as an awe struck Prince fan back in the 80s. She had a tattoo sleeve gracing her right arm, and a beautiful Celtic design on her left leg. Her green Kia Soul had an Om sticker on the back window, with a Hello Kitty license plate holder. She wore a long flowing white cotton shirt, with a black camisole underneath. Her black pants had glittery blue specks weaved into hem. She had a huge funky, Boho type handbag that simply read 'Peace' across the front of it. Her Mala and silver bangles made a sort of melody as they clicked together.
I told myself that she was a Yoga teacher, but then tossed that idea in favor of her being the owner of a New Age Holistic Center. I smiled at the thought of her going about her day filled with joy and contentment. "She's so lucky," I muttered under my breath. This mystery woman who appeared to be around my age looked so happy, so at ease, so...not like me. She, unlike me was living her purpose. An idea that most of us don't ever grasp. Earlier this year, I'd hopped off of the hamster wheel and was able to enjoy a relatively nice go at being a Freelance Writer and Counseling full time. Everything was going smoothly until a panic fueled, irrational thought entered my mind, and I found myself calling an old employer to inquire about a job. Friends couldn't understand why I'd abandon my seventeen year profession. Family didn't comprehend my working from home as a legitimate means of employment. Strangers cast skeptical stares as I 'worked' form the booth at Panera Bread. Perhaps I was doing something wrong. Perhaps this whole idea wouldn't work....
Fast forward >>> I'm miserable! I haven't written a chapter, a page, or a paragraph in almost two months. My 'soon to be released' novel is soon to be forgotten. And, in a flustering switcheroo of roles, my clients are instead reaching out to me to ask if I'm doing okay. Yeah, I've been MIA for longer than I'd like. I must remind myself that this current location is not my final destination. I must reach deep inside to administer mouth to mouth resuscitation, to that creative Spirit inside of me who is forever nudging to break free. I must turn a deaf ear to those who feel the need to comment negatively on every aspect of my life. I must remove myself from situations that no longer serv a purpose, and at times caused pain. I must distance myself from places that hinder my Spiritual growth. I must...Live My Purpose!
Universe, I'm ready! I'm ready to trust and believe that no matter what, with a little elbow grease, faith and dedication to my vision, that I will most certainly succeed. I'm ready to follow my instincts and honor what I know in my heart is best for me. I'm ready to tell fear to get the #$@! out of my face as I push forward and embrace my ability to accomplish anything that I set my mind to.