Full and Unfinished

“Don’t live the same year 75 times and call it a life.” – Robin Sharma

The most interesting humans to me are the ones who have been devastated yet find the strength to recreate themselves out of the ashes of what came before. Who did not let their trauma define them or confine them. The ones who had it hard growing up and became successful in spite of their circumstances. The ones who transmute grief into art. The ones who, after hitting rock bottom, look up at the sky and never stop reaching for it again. The ones who have known pain, who have sat in the darkness facing the end of their limits and rise again to become something new. Something better. Something raw and honest, courage lifting a chin that was once sunken in sorrow. The lotus blooming, the sun also rising. A super human born of deep pain who carved their way out of loss and created a monument of their life and what it means to begin again, over and over.

I noticed that the people who seem to be able to transform themselves out of whatever their circumstances are all have the same thing in common – a special kind of grit that calls them out of routine and into new experiences. A willingness to try new things. A learned ability to spot an opportunity and embrace it instead of shrinking away. They are open to new experiences, new places. They see their comfort zone as a tool to step back into when needed, not a boundary that keeps their lives contained. The first step is always tentative. The next step more assured, until one day they are vibrant and alive, trying new foods, going to new places, learning new skills. It is never a sudden shift into a magnetic life. It is always an incremental building, one experience one brave act at a time building on the last. I have seen mountains built out of graveyards this way.

To live a life with meaning is to create a life of courage. Doing the same thing every day, over and over again until you die is living, sure. But it is not a life. It is not embracing the fullness of the human experience and all the unique ways, places, things humans have created to make life a little more gorgeous. It means saying yes to something out of the routine. It means trying something you’re afraid to do. It means opening up to new people, saving to visit new places. Waking up and deciding to do just one thing differently. A different route to work, a different brand of coffee, a different restaurant.

I was never athletic – I built my entire personality around literature, writing, studying. And then one day at the age of 36, I ran after my son who took off on his bike toward a busy intersection. That first hit of post-workout endorphins was like the salve my soul had desperately been needing. And I realized I could push my body to do uncomfortable things, that I could struggle physically and still feel good afterward. I post a lot about moving your body now, because that run down the street turned into cycling classes at the YMCA, turned into a Peloton membership, turned into strength training 3 – 5 days a week. At 42 I am healthier, stronger, and have more endurance than ever before in my life. All because I stepped outside my comfort zone.

I’m not saying do risky, dangerous things with no regard for personal safety, not at all. I am talking about breaking the cycle of get up, work, come home, watch TV, go to bed, get up and start it all over again. I lived that life for 3 decades. It left me anxious, exhausted, and depressed. Stuck to screens, watching other people living a life and allowing my mind to limit my own possibility. Somewhere along the way trauma or comfort or familiarity chained me to a life I hated. To a marriage that was not healthy for me. To relationships that did not inspire me, that dulled my shine and stole my creativity. And it starts with one small step in a different direction.

Recently a friend booked a private dance fitness class. I am not a dancer, I don’t go out dancing. But I said yes. Yes to learning a new skill. Yes to moving my body in new ways. Yes to doing something fun with my friends. Yes to somatic movements on a Saturday when I could be sitting at home doing the same thing I do every weekend. Was I the best dancer in class? No. Was I nervous and awkward at certain points? Absolutely! Did I do every move perfectly? Absolutely not. But I tried it. And I had a blast. And I learned that I like dancing, that I am capable of learning a whole routine within an hour, and that I look hot as hell in heels, a red lacy bra, spandex, and fishnets. No one was there to look at my cellulite, to critique whether I could strut down a runway with ease, to laugh at me or point out how I am not skinny. Not a single person there cared what I looked like or how well I danced, but they were so happy I came.

And I remind myself that I left a job I loved after 13 years to step into a new role, to forge a new career path. I remind myself that I cared for my dying father and made it out the other side with a heart full of grief but a softer, kinder soul. And I remind myself that I packed up an entire house, sold it, bought a new house, moved all my earthly possessions, pets, and son to a different town, and I did it all alone. That a woman who can transform herself over and over again is the most unstoppable force on the planet. That someone who has been deep in the well, swimming toward the bottom of herself, who still chose to come up for air, build a latter, climb out, and conquer mountains is the most magnetic force on the planet. If I stayed in my comfort zone, I would still be living the same day over and over again in a job with no opportunities, in a marriage that was toxic, with relationships that kept my spirit small and my creativity stifled.

So the next time someone offers you an opportunity to do something new – instead of shrinking, try saying yes. Wear the sequins, learn the dance, take the chance on your own ability to transform. Your future self is waiting.