As my brother said, “Fuck what looks good on paper. You have to do what’s good for your soul.”
A lifelong agnostic, bordering on atheist, Bradd is not one to talk about the soul, but he’s great in dire situations. His stoicism comes through strong and solid, and he has a way of putting situations into perspective and crushing any doubts, fears, and anxieties in my path. A real Ganesh. This is his essence.
All of this is to say that I find my life being uprooted yet again, but this time, it’s me who is doing the uprooting.
After traveling around the country, landing in New Mexico, and taking an arts writer job at a well-respected weekly magazine in Santa Fe just three months ago, I find myself closing the door on that short chapter by way of resigning.
You have to do what’s good for your soul.
Suffice it to say, the world of journalism attracts a good number of eccentric and complicated weirdos, many of whom are wonderful people and some of whom most certainly could benefit from some therapy. But this go-around, I found myself working under someone who was intolerable. How much are we willing to suffer for the sake of something steady? Week after week, the same image came to mind: that of the person who stays in an abusive partnership, thinking something will change. I refuse to be that person.
My time there was so dehumanizing, after resigning, I decided to give myself a week’s vacation. Can I afford it? No, but I also can’t afford not to.
“Vacation” starts today. I know it appears to some as if I’ve been vacationing for a year. I did travel America and camp in the most awe-inspiring places and swim in the Atlantic and the Pacific and generally had the time of my life in 2019. I also worked harder than I ever have—and by “work,” I mean both inner and outer.
I have been going nonstop for so many months, and to climax with such a traumatic experience, I need some time off. Downtime. I need a vacation from my life so that I can continue my life. I don’t need an exotic getaway; I need a week of deep rest, the space to go inward and get quiet and clear the clutter from my auric field until I can hear my intuition again, until this jostled arrow on my heart’s compass can steady itself and point me forward.
When you get to a place where you’re connected to spirit so deeply that your every action is led intuitively, it’s a dark and lonely place to suddenly find yourself disconnected from that flow.
Here’s to reconnecting. Here’s to realigning. Here’s to blind faith (is there any other kind?). As they say, “Leap and the net will appear.” Here’s to the courage to leap, once again.
* * *
JOURNAL PROMPT:
What does a week of deep rest look like?
THE ART CHAKRA 