On Living a Life Fulfilled
**EDIT. I wrote this the first week of April. I chickened out of posting it sooner, so here ya go regardless because #fuckthatfear
I know. I even gagged at the title. It seems... pretentious... egotistical... naive. Hear me out.
As I write this, I'm at a café in Oakland, California sipping my third coffee. I've roamed about three miles through this area brimming with locally-owned businesses.
I don't live here-I'm visiting a friend. My typical day back home is loaded from top to bottom with obligations-ask my husband, even if I sit on the couch with him before bed, I'm pulled to be doing something "productive."
I’m a nurse, and I coach softball pitchers. I coach softball pitchers, and I work casually as a nurse. I leave the crossed out part because it still feels weird. l've been a nurse for almost seven years and have worked from New Hampshire to California in intensive care units. In the last three years, I've cultivated my pitching business, Primal Pitching, from one student to over sixty. I also began a podcast this February (check it out) to help them cultivate health. l've had to cut back on nursing to do this, and it's hard for me because I feel like it’s shocking to people that I would cut back with plans to get out of nursing.
It's hard to trust the fucking process. It's hard to give up control and what is secure.
It's hard to work less in an area society tells me I should climb the ladder.
But I wasn't living.
Being bat shit crazy busy from 0600 to 2100 six days a week is not fulfilling.
And I was still trying to figure out how I could use my health coaching background (did I mention I’m dual-certified as a wellness coach??).
Where the fuck did I think I was going to fit that in?
I recently read some books that knocked me on my ass (The Celestine Prophecy, The Law of Attraction), and I’ve started to wake the fuck up.
I am not on this earth to kill myself for someone else's interpretation of living.
This stress was killing my vibes. Everything was suffering.
I'm in Oakland visiting a fucking bomb friend.
This wasn't supposed to be a leisure trip. I am concluding six months of business coaching with Kristen Kalp in LA, and I almost booked my flights allowing just enough time for that. As in, fly in the day the retreat starts, fly out the day it ends. Thank the Universe I woke the tuck up. Yes, I had to take more time off work (no paid leave). Yes, I'm missing the opportunity to have more pitching lessons. But for fuck's sake, I fucking deserve this. White space is SO hard for me, but I refuse to live status quo.
I don't have grand adventures planned or exotic dining. I'm here to experience. I'm here to live.
Why am I sharing this with you, my wellasfuck folks?
You cannot achieve health if you are living life according to someone else's ideals.
I'M NOT going to be on my death bed relishing in all of the hours I worked or all the things I did that I didn’t really want to or salivating over my pristine lawn outside my house.
Despite eating nourishing foods, moving my body in a way conducive to health, crafting sleep rituals and telling myself I had my stress under control, it didn't fucking matter. Even though my business FEEDS my soul in a way nursing never can, I was fucking miserable.
WHY ARE YOU HERE ON THIS EARTH? WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO? Start there. Share with me fab accountability.