desperation

It’s 9:24pm PST and I have my toothbrush in my mouth, just got home from the pub. I felt so much electricity running through my body as I parked my car on the street and hustled home through the rain, I could only think about how badly I wanted to be writing. I haven’t been actively creating in a while and it feels like a part of me has died and is now in a weird resurrection phase (and that part didn’t die because I wasn’t paying attention to it, it died because it had to because the next phase is going to be better, whatever that is).

Resurrection is awkward.

For a while there I simply did not have words for the transformation that has been happening for me. For the first time language felt inadequate. It felt like watching Avatar for the first time and feeling completely gripped by the phosphorescents (sp?) or something like that, except dialed up by like 1000. It felt like seeing a whale in the ocean and just gasping and not being able to say anything out loud for a few minutes. The last 8 months have felt like going up the incline of a roller coaster and knowing that by the time you get to the end of the ride you may or may not be wearing the same outfit you were wearing at the beginning because who knows what kind of roller coaster this is. You know? Yeah, me neither.

All I know is that there has been a mesmerizing quality to the ‘state of things’ lately and it all feels like it’s going somewhere and I don’t know how else to say it. I feel like I’ve hopped on a train and I’m friends with the conductor but I have no idea when the train is going to stop. We’re not the kind of friends where you need to know each other’s names. We’re the kind where you met at a coffee shop years ago and don’t need names because names are so passé. Ugh.

9 months ago I moved across the country for a relationship and a few weeks ago that relationship ended. Adult relationships, they say, are complicated. Well, yes they just are. I’m not calling this post Desperation because now that the relationship is over I don’t know why I moved out here (even though yes, I did have that thought and yes I did panic for a few days about what the heck I was doing here). But then after that I realized I am out here on an adventure that I chose and that is the best reason to keep doing the adventure.

I thought that when the original point of the adventure vanished then it made sense for me to go back to home base and decide not to have any more adventures for a while. I’m laughing as I reread that last sentence because that is so real and normal and human and gosh, I feel like a child who just wants to be carried the rest of the way sometimes. Like, “I’m tired, I want to go home, there are no more fun things to do at this party, please can we leave, thank you”

But when I said that to the Universe she looked at me and went, “Sure, I can carry you for a while but we’re staying at the party” and she let me fall asleep in her arms.

It’s like when I was on the Camino and they told us, “When you start, you think you know why you’re doing the Camino but once you’re on it then you truly understand why you’re here” And that is exactly what it feels like. I thought I knew why I came here and then I found out why I really came here.

But this is the wild thing about being alive in general: I have been choosing the adventure the whole damn time.

In the past it’s just been so hard for me to not self-edit all the time.

So here’s what I’m doing: I’ve decided life is too short to keep starting over again and again and again. I like wiping the slate clean - whether it’s deleting all of my social media or the photos on my phone or my wardrobe or my hair - I like starting over. I like erasing the evidence about what was there before so I don’t have to think about all the painful versions of myself I had to be in order to become this one.

But I don’t want to erase anymore. And I don’t want to curate myself to be likable anymore, which is difficult because I have an extremely guilty conscience, so odds are if I feel tension with someone and even if I know I’m not the one who needs to apologize, I will reach out, write the letter, send the text and be the very contrite human who would rather connect than not connect even if it’s at my own expense. (Warning: Sometimes this is a very bad idea!!!!!!! Boundaries are cool!!!!!!)

This is hilarious because now I’ve decided I’m going to confidently make mistakes all the time! I’m clumsy I am no longer trying to undo or override all of the adventures I wish I could rewrite. Even people who have been undoubtedly cruel to me I don’t even wish out of my story because being friends with them made me somehow more myself right now. I’m desperate to make some messes, leave some cookie crumbs, leave a sign of life for whoever comes next. I’m taking responsibility for my side of the fence but I’ve been leaf blowing and attempting to pick up dog poop on other people’s side of the fence forever and I’m done trying to make other people’s lawns nice. I’m putting flamingos in mine and having a fire pit to dance around.

There are a lot of things up until a year ago that I would have wished could have been different. There were some serious hang ups I had around being where I was and who I was. I was disappointed in myself and I had no idea how to cope with that sense of overwhelm.

But now that I’m beyond where I thought I was going on this adventure, I wouldn’t change a thing. It all happened and it’s all still happening and I’m grateful to still be here for it. I’m not going to hold back from creating anymore. I can pretend like it matters where I am or who I’m surrounded by or how much money I’m making or how many friends I have but ultimately none of that actually matters. I’ve been through the worst of it (so far? maybe?) and I came out the other side, on the other side of the country, with some brand new friends and a heck of a lot of confidence and curiosity and I think they’re going to carry me through whatever comes next. But more importantly I know this version of Hannah can handle whatever comes next and that’s why I’m not afraid. I’m just desperate to keep creating.