He spent the night in my dorm room. Side by side on two small, blue, frameless futons we . . . watched The Weather Channel and went to sleep.
It was the evening after my 19th birthday and we’d just been to a semi-formal together.
We’d met only once, introduced at a party, before I called and invited him. Our connection had been instant, and I fell hard for him in a doodling-his-initials-during-chemistry-class kind of way.
S. T. S.
S. T. S.
S. T. S.
According to his roommate, he felt the same about me.
The next morning my friends made assumptions about what had happened during our sleepover. I didn’t correct them.
The truth was, we didn’t even kiss—not then, not ever. And not for lack of want.
By the time I finished college I knew my biggest fear in life was, and still is, regretting the things I haven’t done. Things I didn’t do because I was scared. Just as I was too scared to kiss a certain poultry science major.
“Is it OK for Maisie to climb the 7 ft. tree in our yard?” the text read.
“Of course, if she wants to,” I responded to my friend.
It was Easter Sunday when my dad died. He was 59-years-old.
I often wonder, what if I only live to 59? Then that means just 27, 26, 25, 24, 23, now 22 more trips around the sun.
If that. There are no guarantees.
So with the finite amount of time I have left what do I want to do with myself? How do I want to show up? Who do I want to be?
I want to be unbound by fear.
I want to play full out.
I want to be authentically me.
I want to feel aligned and peaceful and whole.
I want to encourage and enable my kids to do the same.
On the other side of fear of giving birth I felt unconditional love and unbridled potential.
On the other side of fear of life are also unconditional love and unbridled potential.
Here, in this limitless field, fear dissolves. The energy left in its wake points us in the direction of personal expansion, of tapping into our infinite potential, and the freedom and joy that come with it.
From this space we honor our power to assert ourselves—and our worthiness to do so. We embrace failure as a guide, not a source of shame. We celebrate creativity and introspection and emotional risk-taking.
It’s where we leave the security of the known to forge a path in accordance with the message written on our soul.
It’s where we love ourselves without reservation or qualification.
It’s where we climb trees.