I used to live in a loft in a hip part of town. Too hip for me I sometimes thought.
The loft had a European style balcony; not really a balcony at all but rather a railing just beyond the door with maybe a foot of standing room.
The year I lived there was one of the most challenging of my life.
My business which had started off strong was struggling; my confidence diminishing daily. And the root of it all was a story.
A story that, over time, became a touchstone worn smooth in my pocket. Sometimes I would finger it lovingly, speaking it aloud like a mantra. Other times I’d bring it out into the light, examining it from every angle.
Once in awhile, the story would keep me from sleep, and I would write. Pages and pages of story. With each telling it became more detailed, more real, more damaging to both my mind and my heart.
One part of me knew the story was a lie. But I hung onto it like a drowning man to a life preserver.
Why would I do that?
The story had ceased to be a story.
The story had become the truth.
Notice the lack of details. Then notice how well you know this story. Your life, your version – still a story.
The part of me that recognized the lie woven throughout the story incited an intervention. Out there on the not-a-balcony-balcony in the dark of night.
In my hip loft in the even hipper part of town, I leaned out onto the railing.
I looked around. I listened.
The building was surrounded by a couple of blocks of industrial area, which made it unbelievably quiet.
I leaned out.
I inhaled the night air.
The moon shone down onto the one tree in the lot across from my window. The light played on the leaves, rippling softly in the night breeze.
I leaned out.
Without warning, without knowing where it came from, a voice bellowed out from deep in my belly, the spell of silence shattered.
The old story living like the truth, in a heartbeat revealed itself a lie. Like a black hole, it collapsed into itself, a supernova at the end of its life cycle.
No idea where it came from. No way to explain it.
I leaned out.
I yelled once again. Laughing at my insanity. Wondering at the space revealed.
New words, forming a new story.
Taking flight. . .
I watched it high up and safe, sitting there in that one tree in the lot across from my window.
Leaning out, I embraced my life.
This is so cool! Congratulations! What a neat group.
You are a very adept storyteller! Very well written. (Of course, now I must dig down a little further…exciting…like an adventure! LOVE IT!)
Ahh my friend, your skill is already present. You forget I know your blog well! What stories will we be telling a year from now I wonder?
Love this. So powerful on so many levels.
Such a primal need your soul had to finally call for what it wanted, no, needed!
When that primal need kicked in I wish I could have seen the look on my own face! Who knew that kind of roar could come out of lil old me?
I very much enjoyed this, so nicely done.
Thanks Jack. Greatly appreciated.
Love this, love this, LOVE THIS!!!!
Sometimes you can’t help but let it all out in the most basic ways.
Basic, primal, gotta-let-it-out self expression 🙂
You did it again Sandi.
You wrote an awesome, inspirational post without being all inspirational. I love this. 🙂
This was a weird one to write because I remembered that night so clearly and it still felt vulnerable. Don’t know why something was unleashed that night. Don’t know why I felt compelled to write about it. I just followed my instinct both times.
I have a love-hate relationship with posts like that.
I wrote one like that the other day-I just felt so compelled-so I wrote it-although I spent a considerable amount of time debating on if I REALLY wanted to post it or not-but I’m glad I did.
Instincts are soooo under-rated. I’ve been trying to follow mine more recently as opposed to ignoring them like I usually did. The amount of difference it’s made has been mindblowing.
I’m not surprised that following your instincts more has produced great results. The body doesn’t lie and that “gut feeling” is usually on the right track!
Very true-but then tend to be easy to ignore. Listening to instincts is totally one of those “Duh! Why wasn’t I doing this all along!” type things.
It’s about noticing…
First you might notice after the fact and say “duh!” but after awhile you’ll notice quicker until it gets to the point you’ll notice just before you’re about to do the thing you shouldn’t do and your body will be vibrating with NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Paying attention to your intuition is like strengthening a muscle. It might be flabby at first, but it will get stronger with consistency 🙂