Updated: Aug 11, 2020
Let’s start with...I’m a planner, a secret introvert (as an executive coach & trainer, I play an extrovert on tv), love my own space, I'm a hustler baby (always working on a project), too independent (some say) for my own good, which means I rarely ask for help. My dad calls me his “once in a lifetime child” because I’m always calling to tell him about my next big thing, which included leaving my 17 year career at BMW in 2017 to create, execute and pivot into the "next version" of myself.
Then Covid hit and smacked the f*ck out of everything I’ve built and shit got real.
My independence was shook. My choices in question. My purpose (that I thought was so clear), now fuzzy and out of scope. I’ve asked myself...who am I in this transition? How can I help others when I can’t seem to help myself?
As if I had some forethought that I was going to be in lockdown for months, I splurged and bought a Peloton late last year. This bike became the outlet that I needed. When the tears rolled up inside of me, my bike helped me process my emotions. It's as if it gave me the permission to cry, scream, laugh and sing through the uncertainty of this transition.
And, now after 5 months in my urban concrete jail cell (formerly known as my apartment), I made the decision to drastically change my lifestyle. I broke my lease. I sold many of my belongings and put my remaining things into storage. I'm choosing to leave the city life, the penthouse in the sky and the hustle of the east coast that I thought I always wanted. I guess in lockdown, what was disguised as a burden was actually the gift of awareness. Tomorrow begins my new journey, which includes traveling to stay with friends, family, Aruba (oh, yes that’s already booked) and wherever the wind decides to blow me.
First, I have to get through today and it was tough, as was all of last week.
Every time I taped up a box, I simultaneously dodged tears making contact with the cardboard. Why was I crying? Sometimes I didn't even know...maybe it was because I felt like I failed? Maybe because I felt like I was loosing my independence? Maybe it was the fear of the unknown?
I may be utterly terrified about this pivot, but there is a hint of freedom in detachment.
My hope is this feeling will expand, but at the moment it's more like a grain of sand. After selling off some of my belongings, I’ve come to terms that I'm most sad about putting my Peloton into storage. As a single woman, living alone, it’s been my confidant in this process. Interesting an inanimate object as my confidant?! The fact is this bike facilitated my ability to pivot, during a time when I could have chosen to sit in my suffering.
Yet, I know that every time I pivot, it gets me closer to the center of the lollipop!
What's inside? Perhaps it's where freedom, peace or purpose reside? What's inside is irrelevant, it's the quest that keeps me moving forward. Today, I turn my pain into a pivot and choose to share it with you.
I believe everyone has a story. You never know the pain that someone is going through, so be kind.
And...this is my story of how I've Awaken to Shift.