Am I Allowed to be This Happy?

Hello friends and readers,

As I sit on my couch—children gone, work over, and belly full—everything inside of me and around me feels….still. I’ve finally created this life that matters deeply to me, and it’s like I just get to live it now. That sounds great, but there’s a part of me that interprets the stillness as emptiness. I’ve always been in pursuit of something, and so my mind and my system have never been allowed to really settle into anything.

What does it say about me to just…be? To not rush to get to the next thing? Inside, it’s like I’m losing my motivation, and that feels scary. Who am I if I’m not hyperfixated on figuring out what I need to do to grow and heal? What do I do with my time when I’m not constantly filled with thoughts about what I should do next to improve myself?

I finally realized several years ago, as I started writing this newsletter, that I would never reach a place where my life was sorted and struggles never happened. Shifting that perspective was a massive journey, as it allowed me to stop chasing the illusion of perfection and start tuning into what actually feels good to me. It allowed me to stop believing that I needed to be perfect in order to receive the love and care I so deeply desire.

The patterns I’ve developed thus far in life have been about policing myself so that I never make anyone uncomfortable, protecting myself from the actions of those close to me, and overworking just to prove that I am a person of value. If I’m not harping on myself for every imperfection, could I just stand back and actually be proud? If I’ve put people into my life that support me and care about me, could I stop being hypervigilant in the fear that they’ll hurt me? If I’m doing this job that I love with people who feel like community, could I allow myself to stop rushing forward and admire the view?

The truth is that, even though this is where I’d hoped I’d come to eventually, I still don’t know how to fully live into this life. Finding problems and “fixing” them is my specialty, even if I’m making them up in my own head, or I’m making choices that are causing my own problems. But I’ve been subtracting everything from my life that looks good on paper, yet isn’t right for me, and I’m finding a whole lot more satisfaction in the aftermath.

Am I allowed to be this happy? It’s weird.

Right now, I’m in the liminal space, where I’m being challenged by something that feels new, even my own happiness, and I don’t yet know how to hold it. It feels difficult to let go of the patterns that keep me guarded, protected, invulnerable. Learning to receive when I’m afraid I’m not deserving, or to love when I’m afraid to lose, is far more uncomfortable than I’d like it to be, and sometimes the only thing I can do is seek support as old fears wash over me, whether I’m able to feel through it alone or ask a trusted other to be with me.

I think the hardest part of this journey is how few examples I have of people that have been here before me who can tell me they understand what this feels like, how hard it is to stay when everything in me wants to run away, that it won’t last forever, and there is something beautiful on the other side of the pain. I wish there were more guideposts through the darkness, but right now it feels like I’m creating them myself and casting a feeble glow for others who may need it.

If you’re in the wilderness right now, may you be brought to safe people that make you feel less alone.

If you’re holding on to old patterns that aren’t serving you because you’re terrified of what would happen to let go, may you learn the freedom that comes from telling the truth.

If you’ve made a leap and aren’t yet sure where you’ll land, may you find trust in yourself to withstand the fall.

If you’ve been here many times before, may you offer light to those who have not yet learned to listen to their knowing.