Inside My Journal: A December Excerpt

It’s been a productive week. I’ve thought a lot about consistency and how it truly impacts our ability to make changes. How it creates subtle confidence. I don’t have any doubts that I’m where I’m supposed to be even if it looks different than where everyone else is with their career, marriage, kids, owning a home or being surrounded by family all of the time. 

While I had a good few days of yoga practice, I also found comfort in cooking and did a lot of writing - deciding to start my newsletter again. I think I have words to share that may help people. I have been allowing the light to shine on my face a lot lately and that has also been helping. The light fills me up, golden with hope, like the stars in the sky. The universe lives inside of me. Inside of all of us, really. I know if I believe enough, I can feel this way forever - golden with light. We can be a source of hope and strength for one another - and I know in my heart that whoever needs us will always finds us, so why not write and continue to share? No one’s been stopping me but me and my fear. That fear bundled up in my file cabinet with Professor Hufstader’s notes on my college writing that read “you’re writing is too emotional and sensitive.” Maybe in our out of touch world today someone will find me and benefit from my exploration of emotions and sensitivity - wondering why they have not swam in those deep waters with themselves - and maybe putting a toe in after reading some truths that I plan to share. We can all help each other a little bit more through our own honesty, and I have come to the conclusion that all of my self-help books and the teachings of yoga, religion and spirituality are correct. We are here to give and to walk one another home; whether it’s with our words in a letter, a phone call, sharing a book, or volunteering our time. We’re never alone. We’re all having some variation of the same experience on this wild earth, and it’s our true life’s work to give back to one another in some form. If we have something to give, it’s not our right to hold on to it - the story, writing, art and creativity … we can be helping someone. At least I believe that to be true. Using our voices can heal; and so can humor. More humor and more stories that humanize us. 

I’ve been thinking about the gaps in life between forgiveness and resentment; how they can swallow love whole - and I don’t want to feel swallowed anymore. I can’t imagine I’m the only one who doesn’t want to feel like they’re sinking to the bottom of the ocean bathed in emotions and why didn’t I’s. I am officially halfway through my 43rd year of life and it’s only now that I feel grateful for all of it - everyone I’ve met, everyone who left, who and what I willingly let go of. I feel grateful for my story, every moment of pain and even the times I asked God “why me?” This is the way it’s supposed to be. Right here. Right now. I am in my phase of long walks, writing, having deeper conversations, reading, continued self-work and trusting that whatever is next will find me - no why’s or questions.  

This past weekend Channon said to me “You’re a totally different person now. You never even met me for lunch and we worked two blocks from each other for years.” That version of Tina was scared of living, wore heels on the subway (while in pain) and was a perfectionist. The Tina of today lives on her savings because her heart told her to, takes time for lunch, helps friends move, is present in and finally feeling every day of life and its wonders. She stands on her head and lets herself feel strong. She’s less attached to objects, things, and external appearances. In fact, too many things and options now make her uncomfortable. Making changes is joyfully hard but I would have it no other way.