Somewhere in the middle, things in my life turned upside-down and back again.
Twenty-seven. Blonde. 5’4″, size 7 1/2 shoes. Not a shoe person. I have a black cat named Roxy, a tendency to talk quickly when I’m nervous, and I live in a subleased condo in Boulder, Colorado. I’m not from Colorado. I’m employed, albeit creatively including three steady freelance jobs that pay the bills and a million steady hobbies and projects that don’t, but that I’d never give up. I’ve come to terms with the idea that while I want to teach yoga (and I’ve been trained to do so), I’m also reconciling that desire with the fears that I won’t “do it right.”
I’m working on getting over that.
My sense of curiosity and wanderlust frames most of my decisions, so yes I’m a bit nomadic and yes I want to learn everything. I drink wine (gamays are my favorites), Scotch (Macallan 12, neat), and Grey Goose martinis (extra dirty, please). Sometimes I drink beer, but since I don’t burp like normal people, I can’t handle much of it.
My relationships mean everything to me. I’m a sister and a daughter to a tight-knit family. My best friends are scattered all over the country, and I couldn’t survive without them. I’m Southern born, Minnesota grown.
I completed yoga teacher training in November 2009, and left my well-paying, comfortable media buying job the day before Thanksgiving. By December, I knew I was moving to Boulder, CO, and by February 2010, I was spending my days in coffee shops writing blog posts and finding myself face-to-face with Too Many Possibilities.
By May, I was still freelancing 20+ hours each week, and I’ve taken on a full-time job with a Boulder startup. I’m in on the pulse of the tech scene in a creative community. I have health insurance and stable income.
I’m walking the tight-rope between being present and looking forward, in seeing opportunities where I am as well as on the horizon of my peripheral vision. I know I’m still transient, but I know that I’m supposed to be here.
And the time before that.
I read Eat Pray Love on my twenty-fifth birthday and knew my own life was on the edge of something. I had a friend that had just left a great job in pursuit of starting his own business so he could work from anywhere in the world, and I wanted that, too. By the end of Summer 2008, I was plotting how I might teach yoga on the beaches in Hawaii.
This meant a few things. This meant that I couldn’t stay in the path I was on – attempting a ladder-climb at one of the Twin Cities’ best and most respected ad agencies, living in St. Paul, and not having a clue how to get what I wanted out of life.
I knew I felt drained of passion and creativity and started having panic attacks that were way too frequent. I knew that yoga saved me from myself and my anxiety, and I knew that I had to get out and see more of the world than my neighborhood – beautiful and charming as it was.
Having no idea where those inclinations would take me, I found myself upside-down, simultaneously delirious with and overwhelmed by the possibilities in front of me.
How was I supposed to choose one thing when I felt like I could have anything?