|The morning we left on our bicycles. READY written all over my face.|
You wouldn't believe it if I told you that pre-bike trip I was neurotic about organizing my Inbox. Like a kitchen sink, it's better off if you don't let shit pile up. Ah, and then I took up bicycling as a full-time job. The first full-time job I've held for over five months since graduating college! The kind of full-time job that doesn't require gazing into a screen for 8 hours a day. The kind of full-time job that, actually, doesn't allow for it.
All this to say, I just sorted through over 300 neglected e-mails. To all the overflowing-kitchen-sink people out there, this will sound like nothing. But to the wipe-with-sponge-three-times-daily people, you will understand that this was a big deal.
Here's an e-mail from the trenches that's living proof of how much we sign up for our destiny.
dear dear friend,
it's 1 in the morning over here and i just finished watching eat, pray, love. despite the glow above every single person's head, i loved it. here now, lump in throat with the image of her getting in the boat, crossing over, choosing the "physics of the quest"--that everything matters, every interaction a clue, every person a teacher. i can't help but think of you--of your story and the books you'll write and the movies they'll make, because how could they not? i can't help but get a lump in my throat over the journey i'm on--even now, even before my feet ever touch the pedals for that first long ride 10 days from now. i'm choosing this hard-core, mama. really fuckin' choosing this. i know you know. it's just that sometimes i can't believe the choices that choose us. it's taken a long time to choose this one back, and i'm sure i'll go back and forth. but it's about that--about choosing to say yes to the truth you find, to the thing you were seeking in the first place, to it all. lately, i keep quietly admitting that i want it all. in a way so far from fairy-tale that's it's crazy. i want the bruised broken knee. i want the lingering taste of let down. i want the paralyzing doubt. and then, i also want the 12 track ukulele album. i want the sex under the starlight. i want the floating in the river with my six pack abs. it reminds me of your words, of your beautiful, beautiful poem, of the way that even with a life full of companionship, i can have a heart that still lacks a fullness of love. there's a love that's waiting for me. that is in this letter. that is in these tiny words and in my tiny tears. like you said, love was right there all along.
i am so ready, love. not a fists up ready. an arms out ready. ready to receive. dear god, here it goes.
love you so. let's see each other soon.
That e-mail said it all, knew it all before it happened. And still, there are centuries of wisdom to be lived. You know? We can't just stop at our hunches, leaving them unexplored. We have to go forth, live, get messy, go deep, go light, back track, rearrange, re-find what we never needed to look for to begin with. That's the kind of living that creates fullness in our hearts. The kind of living that feels like love.
What hunches do you have these days about where your life is leading you? What do you expect will happen as you walk willingly into your destiny? Create the story you want--the story that has you arms out, ready to receive, surrendering to all the magic and mystery.