Burn Baby Burn

I’m a run a trail of gas, light a match, and burn everything to the ground type of person.

These past few days, it’s been tough to break this pattern. Its sweet, cunning words say, “Follow me, I know best,” as its snake-charming, beckoning finger takes me in a direction. I must abide.

Move to Portugal. To a intentional community. Get out. Never look back.

I’ve been interpreting my life’s worries and unsolved challenges as if it means something is wrong with me. And it stands to reason when everything not working shows me my reflection, well then, adios, it’s me that has to go.

But what if I don’t want to?

How do I not hold myself hostage, anymore? How do I break free of those old patterns for good?

“There is no script. The old rules no longer apply. You’re on an entirely different book now.” I think I’ll give myself the same advice I gave a client last week.

But I need to admit something; I am scared of being vulnerable this way. And I am even more terrified of the fallout if you don’t like it.

But you’ll never know how much I care and what you mean to me if I don’t tell you. And that’s not the life I want to live.

So, in a way, I am burning it all to the ground; the script, the rules, the patterns that no longer serve me.

And now, it’s time to figure out what that means.


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