The first week, the desert and the stardust

It’s Wednesday as I write this and exactly a week ago was my last day at my muggle job.

I sent kind and loving notes to the people I connected with the most in my time there. It was just shy of six months. 

I am proud of the work I did. I am proud of the connections I built and I am grateful for new and deepened friendships. Most importantly, I’m excited about how these connections will play out in the future.

I don’t believe we come across people once, who mean something to us and then it ends. The most significant people have always come back around, to teach me new things about myself and the world, again and again. 

Thursday marks a week since I left for the desert on a retreat unlike anything I’ve ever done before. Over time, as I go deeper into the work I’m on this planet to do, more so now than ever before, I lean into the things that call to me and feel like the “right” next step.  

I was called to this retreat the same way I was called to leave the muggle role. 

I never believe a decision to be “right” or “wrong” anymore; I believe that all decisions are simply a choice and in each choice, we learn something new. 

Let’s take said muggle job as an example. On paper, it was perfect. 

I got to work from home, a remote employee. I got to basically set my own schedule for the hours I was committed to. I got to do my core work and contribute wherever I saw a gap in the organization, allowing for creativity and exercising new muscles in a corporate space. 

It was a blessing when the job came into my frame of awareness. It was wonderful to feel a community of people working together toward a common goal. The camaraderie of teamwork. Contributing to something larger. 

All of this was a breath of fresh air because if I’ve learned anything about entrepreneurship, for me, it is very lonely.

It turns out that working from home is also very lonely and because I felt tethered to my laptop for a set number of hours a week, it not only felt lonely, it was isolating. 

I did however learn an extraordinary amount about myself in the role. I learned that I am better now than I was when I exited my corporate career three years ago. After having “gone it alone” in my business for the last few years, I’ve learned there isn’t much I can’t do. Truly. It’s not arrogance. It’s the discovery that education for anything you could desire to learn is available at your fingertips 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. You need only the motivation to research it and then, the capacity to follow instructions through to execution. 

I have refined my skills. I know my talents. I also know how to handle energetically volatile situations. I’ve strengthened personal boundaries. I don’t have an attachment to being smart or right. If I am wrong or make a mistake, that no longer equates to my intelligence (or lack there of) or my worthiness. 

I extinguished many triggers of self doubt that I would have been clueless about if it wasn’t for this role. The release feels a bit like fresh air after a rainstorm. I’ve learned so much.

I went in authentically and came out gracefully, with a heart full of gratitude. 

Maybe it's the magic experiment on Facebook or maybe it's the back to back experiences of leaving one place and meeting a group of new humans almost immediately. Whatever it is,  I've been aware that there’s been a lot of love coming at me. Reflections of the impact that I am able to have when I share who I am, unapologetically and without reservation. 

When I left Expedia three years ago, I was reminded by a dear friend to not forget my stardust; the impact of light I was leaving behind. This lesson was returned to me this past week with all of these changes. 

I recognize I might sound a bit delirious when I share that with my release into the wild unknown, the goodbye notes and the retreat, that I saw my stardust; as if it were a physical thing that I could actually see. 

I sensed it, the way that one might sense rain through an old injury. I felt it, the way one feels the loving embrace of a soul-tribe member. Stardust made real, tangible, poignant. 

I don’t have an explanation for all of the magic that happened in the desert, except to say that it was exactly as it was supposed to be (as all things always are). Memories created and wisdom gained that will feed me for a lifetime and whole-heartedly as I lean in, with an open and soft heart, for what I will be called to next. 

This magic will also sustain me as my family goes through yet another transition with the magnificent woman I have the privilege of calling Mom. It is clearly not a coincidence that her decline and my release into the wild were almost simultaneous. 

There has been space created for all the things. I have a grateful heart for the un-ending wisdom of the universe. 

I believe these things can be summed up in the words my new friend (and former boss) shared with me in a thank you note from my departure; “the beauty of life is sometimes is the mystery”. 

All things in divine timing. 

All things divine. 

All things.

Divine.