I could start by mapping out the storyline. Recounting the most recent details.
I could start after I sleep off this cold, after the fever subsides. When I have more energy. After I make it to a yoga class to remember myself. It's been six months since I've been to a yoga class.
I could start after I meditate a bit more. There's this pain in my left shoulder that I think has been there for four years. Not entirely sure. I notice, now that I pause deeply to notice, that I hold my left shoulder and my right jaw with a certain tension. I could start after I relax all that.
I could start after a shower. I haven't had lunch. Maybe after I read some of one of these books and after I catch a little bit of this sun.
I could start by recounting these two amazing conversations with two of the best of women friends that remind me to live, that I am loved, that there is much to celebrate, that there is purpose to this path and that there is value in my careful attention to the details.
I could start with the details. But I am not interested in a recount of the details. I'm simply uninterested in the same kinds of details right now.
I could start after I take this upcoming workshop. I so can not wait for this workshop. It's called Writing & The Body and it's by two women I completely admire. I could tell you that at the same time I left my job, at the same time I step fully into my calling, all the book draft I'd had was lost this week. I think. I could start after I go to the Apple Store to try to recover it.
I could start with that story of how things fall away when we don't need anymore what we thought we needed. Sometimes it's a bigger message. I could start with a celebration that I have exactly what I need, here in this moment.
I could tell you my interpretations of the Universe.
But I don't know where to start in my next phase of creation. Not yet. Not today. This is transition. This is messy. This is me remembering what it is like, if ever I knew, to have wide open opportunity without a career map or a to do list. This is recalibration, and of the sort that I asked for, but which feels so unfamiliar after so many months of a certain kind of momentum, and so many years of momentum before that.
This is me wanting to connect with you, but to say, there are so many places we could start. Each little bit is an opportunity. Some little bits are distractions.
I am orienting.
This is the start. And the next moment is a start. I could tell the story in a thousand ways, but I am living it.
Each moment right now is a different start. It is a discovery. I am starting to create a new map. It's what we afford ourselves the opportunity to do when we leap. Which I just did.
I said "yes" to the life I want. Now I start it. Now.