Smoldering Twigs: The Joy of Setting My Life on Fire
Disclaimer: I wrote two versions of this story. One is polished and professional and one is a bunch of stories peppered with swear words. This is the second one.
If that doesn’t entice you to read further, here’s the TL;DR version: I got really good at understanding how our personalities and strengths are the keys to our success and now I get to help other people make that discovery and create awesome lives for themselves.
I was sitting on the couch when it happened. I was pet sitting for some friends over the holidays, so I also had an audience. On the arm of the couch, Mr. Smee, a sweet and handsome cat who is regularly frightened by his own tail. On the cushion beside me, Lola, a wire-haired pup who makes you feel like a celebrity every time you walk into the room. And on the ottoman at my feet, Captain Daisy, the charming one-eyed dog living in a cat’s body. All three stared with compassion and bewilderment at their strange friend who was producing the kind of heaving sob noises that could only mean she was dying.
Most revelations don’t come to me in this all-at-once, life-exploding sort of way. Usually, it’s more like walking down a path and collecting important bits and pieces until they end up creating a cohesive whole, but when I turn around to look back I can’t figure out exactly how they all came together. But this was one of those message-from-the-Universe moments that left this usually cerebral and composed individual with rivulets of tears and snot bubbles on her face. I’d love for this description to evoke images of the Ecstasy of Saint Theresa (If you don’t know the sculpture, Google it. You’re welcome.). But no, my awakening was much less aesthetic.
Cutting to the chase, this was the moment I realized that I had value. Exactly how I was. I had strengths, and power, and gifts to offer to the world. One moment I was running on the same treadmill of trying to figure out what to do with my life—writer, nonprofit director, yoga teacher, bartender—and the next moment I knew exactly what it was. Shit’s crazy, right?
Up until that point, my life story had been full of a lot of square-peg-round-hole plot lines and stop-start endeavors. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change a moment because without them I wouldn’t know how painful it is to live your life knowing you’re meant for something greater but not knowing how to make it happen. That part of my life cultivated the empathy that fuels me to help other people now.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me back this train up a couple of years.
I was sitting at a kitchen counter this time, not a couch. This moment came at the end of a long stretch battling some wicked depression and a rather colorful array of subconscious demons. I had spent most of my money and every last airline mile I had and—through a little luck and a lot of kindness from good people—I found myself in the kitchen of the same Honolulu home where I had lived in my twenties.
I sat at the counter, looked out at the ocean, and filled an entire notebook full of ideas and dreams and visions for possible futures in an attempt to find that one thing I’d been told I needed, My Purpose in Life. (There was a solid stretch of years in there where I was pretty convinced that my sole purpose in life was seeking my purpose in life. It was all very Sisyphusian.) I had convinced myself that returning to the place where I had felt the most at home in my own skin—Hawaii—would shake loose something inside of me and I would suddenly have all the answers. The thing I didn’t know at the time is that it worked. It just took two more years of shaking.
After a few weeks on Oahu, I returned to the mainland, dejected that I hadn’t had my epic burning-bush moment. I hadn’t left entirely empty-handed though. My time on the island had conjured up what more or less amounted to a smoldering twig. And I’ll be damned if I was going to let that thing get snuffed out.
The only thing I knew to do from there was to keep going, keep moving towards things that felt right and good, even if they didn’t quite set my soul ablaze. I kept doing the things I knew I was good at: writing, creating things I thought were cool, and being available to people who needed help. And I began accumulating knowledge and experience in a variety of subjects. Some I now hold degrees and certificates in, others I don’t—but my love of knowledge and understanding is my constant companion so I kept studying and doing more of what lit me up.
I dove into personality theory and creativity. Psychology and sociology. Writing and narrative impact. Business and community development. The brain and the body. Habit formation and success. And coaching. My stacks of books grew tall and my “to read” pile was (and still is) ready to topple over. I pushed myself outside my comfort zone and opened up to new experiences. I tried all kinds of new things that made me a little uncomfortable. I loosened my white-knuckle grip on getting everything just right and adopted the motto: “Done is better than perfect.”
Every step of the way I grew, and I gained tools and insights to help others grow too. Before I realized what happened, I had turned my twig into a cozy campfire. Then that day on the couch, under the watchful gaze of three furry faces, the Universe tossed on the gasoline and it became an inferno. What you see here is the life that’s been forged inside of it. Everything I am, everything I know, and everything I’ve experienced has come together to form Bold Introvert.
Basically, I was my first client. There was a lot of trial and error which I’ve used to shape the way I coach. And these days I’ll often hear this little voice in my ear whisper, “Welcome to the good life.” The best part is, that voice is mine.
Additional interesting info:
MBA with an emphasis on Leadership & Strategic Planning
Professional Program in Screenwriting through UCLA
BA in Philosophy
Trained through FLOW Coaching Institute
Certified yoga instructor
Voted “Most Fashionable” in high school in a shocking upset vote