Jump.

Hi Friends!

Happy Wednesday/first day of Fall!  Minus a little haze, it’s a gorgeous day here in Colorado.  I’m sad to see the sun rising a little later each morning, but I suppose apple cider, blazing gold aspens, and boot weather will be a good consolation prize.

I’ve been in my new house for just under a month now, and it is an awesome thing to say – literally and figuratively.  I feel such gratitude each day when I get home, and I also feel suuuuper overwhelmed by all the responsibility.

Recently, I’ve been struggling with more anxiety than normal.  Every time the sun goes down, I panic at every little noise.  Every tail light brings me instantly to the window, peering out from behind closed curtains.   I tried to reason with myself: what are the chances someone would single me out to harm?  I lived in Brooklyn for 6 years – why am I buckling now, when I’m surrounded by friendly neighbors who all own dogs?

I sat on the floor and had a tearful heart-to-heart with my house last night, and it boils down to insecurity and fear.  I feel like I’ve hoodwinked people into giving me more than I deserve – more than I know how to handle – and so the other shoe is going to drop and put me back in my place.  Once I acknowledged that nasty little thought, I felt the smallest bit braver.

Thank God the universe doesn’t work that way.  In my experience, when I strap on the blinders and go for what I want, I realize that there was no way I could have been prepared, and still it turned out better than I hoped.

So in the midst of this conversation with my house and myself, I heard a loud banging in the basement.  All my brave talk and hiring angels went WOOSH out the window as I was flooded with adrenaline and hid in the hallway.  I called someone on the phone, in case of pending emergency, and walked gingerly down the stairs.  “It sounded like something in the dryer,” I said, “but louder.”

Two steps later, “Oh wait,” I said, “don’t laugh at me, but it might actually be something in the dryer.”

Obviously, he laughed.  I opened the dryer door, berating myself for being so silly, and pulled out a pair of jeans.  Laying underneath them was what had caused the ruckus: the protection rock my mom bought for me at the mystical hippie store.  It goes into a pocket to protect you, and I had forgotten to remove it.

My mom sent me this quotation (poem?) today:

A bit of advice
given to a  young Native American
at the time of his initiation:

“As you go the way of life,
you will see a great chasm.

Jump.

It is not as wide as you think.”

Often times the landing is hard when we leap, and the other side of the chasm may look different up close, but in a completely natural, smack-your-forehead way.

After an evening spent praying and crying and telling my house that I would work very hard to take good care of it, and I hoped it would take care of me, too, somebody was getting my attention – with my own protection rock.   The message seemed to say, “as you go the way of life, sometimes you will hear a great clatter.  Calm down.  It is only noise.”

Wishing you all protection (and very strong jumping muscles) today.

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