Day 4 of 365: “I wish I’d played in less rainstorms,” said no one ever.

At times, I’m going to bring up some spiritual woowoo stuff. Just a head’s up. To me, it’s second nature and, y’know, THE OBVIOUS TRUTH, and stuff I talk about regularly… So it doesn’t stand out to me as weird or hippie/(hippy?) or whatever. But in the last week I’ve had a lot (two) people refer to me as a hippy and I’m like…

confused dog

I guess I still see myself as the corporate businesswoman in 6-inch stilettos and a pencil skirt, living life only based on FACTUAL RATIONAL LOGICAL MATH STUFFS, even though I haven’t been that in over three years.

Hippy is one letter away from my favorite animal, so I guess it’s not all that bad.

hippo heart land

I’m not exactly sure why the title of “hippy” irked me. I think maybe I’m not a fan of labels at all? Then again, at this moment my author bio refers to myself as a “recovering control freak,” so… Titles be urrywhere.

Anyhoo. It’s something to be aware of, but I’m not gonna’ over-analyze. Moving on.

Here are a few examples to prepare you. And trust me, these are tame. Just dipping your toesies in the water, folks.

WOOWOO stuff


^^^ The last is precisely what happened about two hours ago.

And it was amazing.

And while I was doing it, I allowed myself to feel totally free… Or at least as uninhibitedly free as I’d allow myself. I was divorced of any care of what neighbors thought, or my sweet mom who drove to find me while I was on my walk in the pouring rain (she’s the most thoughtful human ever in the world).

And then, I had a thought of… “I can’t wait to share this on my blog.”

AND THEN I SAID, HOLD UP A DAMN SECOND. Because that thought has been popping up a whole lot lately, and I’m only 1% complete with this 365-day journey of surrender & all that jazz, and it’ll get pretty annoying if my whole life becomes about OMIGOD I HAVE TO SHARE THIS WITH MY 3 FOLLOWERS.

There’s this balance… This middle ground that I’m meandering toward. It’s between this state of mind:


And this one:

interesting profound

And, to be honest? I’m not there yet. Thankfully, I don’t land on either of the FAR ends of these extremes anymore. I’m able to sense when I’m heading toward either, and I know to meditate, turn off technology, sit in nature, walk my dog, or whatever else to ground into reality.

But yea… There’s admittedly a part of me that says, “Jen. 365 days of your words? That’ll annoy the shit out of some people.”

And you know what? That very well may be right. And part of this journey is my learning to be okay with that, and to still move forward because I’ve got some important shit to do while here.

Some people will love what I say. Others won’t.

And I’m learning to be lovingly detached from either.

I’m not perfect. I have no idea what week three will look like… Or month three… I may suddenly fall into the sticky web of self-importance and post countless duck-face selfies, or start giving detailed descriptions of my bowel movements.

I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow. Or how my writing will feel. Or what I’ll write about.

For now, though, I can say this:

It’s not that I’m obsessed with talking about myself; I actually find it pretty uncomfortable. I’d much rather listen to you talk about yourself so I can analyze your drama and offer intuitive guidance and feel like a freaking hero when my advice or awesome listening skills catalyze something positive for you.

It’s that… I know I’ve learned (and am learning) many lessons, and that I could have really benefited over the years if I had someone speak to me as honestly as I now write and share. There’s this voice and pull inside that says, “Write.” And once I’m done writing, it says “Write.” And then, “Write more.” And then, “Keep writing.”

Which is what I’m listening to for these 365 days. No matter what comes up, or how silly or sad or stupid or amazing or ugly or unmotivated I feel, I’m choosing to listen to the voice that says “WRITE”… And to trust in and learn about chance.

So there’s a sweet, sweet balance to find. One where I’m doing what feels right and good and in alignment for myself, while also pushing myself out of my comfort zone (which can be scary), while also caring for the highest good of all, while also not quitting due to making people uncomfortable or getting addicted to people loving what I say, while also not burning myself out, while also not taking myself too seriously, while also… also… also…

And… It might be a bit of a shit show to finding that balance.

I just know that the balance–that sweet spot–won’t come from thinking. It’ll come from action. Taking steps, making mistakes, pissing people off, crying into my stuffed animals, picking myself back up, trying again, and having a few victories here and there.

Right. That’s about it for now. Day 4 is complete. I still have a lot of work to do on the site, and I’m gonna’ let that happen when the inspiration hits.

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Some days, I paint. Other days, I write. And rap. And tell stories. And do comedy. And doodle. And [attempt to] bake. And, one week out of every month, I merge with my sofa and sob about mortality and things like the existence of air and how we can't live without it and how utterly claustrophobic that is to consider. I'm relatively particular. And this is a place for me to share ALL the quirks.

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