It's Wednesday and I Blame My Hormones

Here we are in the first week of me delivering The Edit on Tuesdays, and it's Wednesday. I blame my hormones and perimenopause.

I'm draggin' like the balls of a very short-legged bull (I recently received several compliments on how I articulate things. You're welcome for this prime example).

I'm writing this to you at 4:11 a.m. because I woke up an hour ago, and while I was lying there, I had this feeling that something wasn't done, but not in a panicky way like I forgot to turn the oven off or something.

It was more energetic than that.

It was like I was holding something I was supposed to have let go of. It was The Edit.

I love writing these each week. I know that it's a place where I can flow in a more personal way, and now my body, mind, and energy are used to it and feel it if I forget.

What I'm really looking forward to is sitting down on Sundays in my favorite chair with my favorite tonic (shoutout to Ascend Mushrooms' Cacao! Have you guys tried this yet? Just the smell of it will open your heart chakra, no joke.) to write each week's newsletter.

This past weekend was nuts, and it would have been a very zippy edition if I'd remembered to write it. Highlights include:

Aaron winning five Jiu Jitsu matches, $1500, and a fancy, enormous belt at a competition in Portland.

Georgia (our mini Australian Labradoodle) gave birth to a litter of 8 puppies.

And I had brunch (this happens like twice a year for me, so it was definitely a highlight) with four incredible women.

Lots of excitement for sure. Not a lot of downtime.

One of the recurring themes in my life and in the lives of ambitious women I find myself around is this:

WE. ARE. BUSY.

What I've been feeling for years (especially this one) is the desire to pull back, say no (sometimes even to things that would be wonderful), protect my peace, and create some buffer around myself and my life.

Things feel like they're moving very quickly, like Earth is being driven by a 15-year-old boy who's stolen his parents' car to go joy-riding without a license or the embodied wisdom and maturity of someone who knows how to safely drive a car. Sometimes it feels like "Are we safe? Are we going to be ok? That was NUTS!"

This is a '9' year in numerology (2+0+2+5=9), which is a year of endings and completion. And I'm watching things in my own world end, like subscriptions to things I no longer need, relationships that have served their purpose, and beliefs that are limited. All of them just going away without me holding onto them.

I've made a pretty comfortable, very safe (except when the hormones dip again...), and peaceful place to live in within myself. My human is home to my soul no matter what's going on in the world around me. And as things are doing their thing in the world, I find myself retreating into the world of my creation: self, partnership, family, home, and my business.

Less "out there" just to be out there. More "in here" because it's the birthplace of how I experience life out there.

I want to bake, so I'm baking.

I want to tidy my spaces, so I'm organizing and cleaning (and dreaming about painting the kitchen and the ceiling of our screening room!).

I want to read, so I'm stacking my nightstand with fiction that's fun.

I'm creating the space for the life I want to be living as I let things end and lean into more of what feels really good right now.

There may never be true balance in life, but there can be harmony within the imbalance.

The one thing that made harmony most accessible for me was healing in the right places.

When we become the safest place for ourselves, it shifts everything else. The 15-year-old non-licensed driver can spin donuts and we're still OK.