On a journey that feels surreal. I look back on this past year; it was actually a few days shy of a year ago I was on my way to finish my life coaching program.
Full of ambition, determination, and passion. And yet, I had no idea how far I’d go from there. I had no idea I’d end up back in Ontario as a Teaching Associate the very next year. I was in the planning stages of my businesses at that time; and freaking out about how crazy I was to actually try this – how ludicris it was to actually be planning to leave a full-time steady pay cheque with nothing but my ideas and hopes to fall on. I yo-yo-ed between excitement and terror, faith and doubt – with a strong dose of judgment of myself for even thinking for a second I could pull this off. Something that was clearly too good to be true.
And yet I knew I had to try. It was around the time of my Ontario trip that I was reaching the tipping point – where the fear of not trying was greater than the fear of failing.
Now I don’t want to give you the wrong impression here, it’s not like I’m some super success story of being a full-time coach yet. However, I am fully supporting myself with self-employment and I am living the life I want to live – including coaching- while continuing to expand on the coaching business I started this year.
I am proud. And yes I’m going to say that and not feel guilty or let myself erase it. It makes me squirm to admit it, but I’ve made enough peace with that squirmy uncomfortable place I teeter on when riding that self-worth seesaw, that I’m letting myself own it – as much as I squirm while doing it. Because, truth be told, I am fucking proud of myself.
For not letting fear hold me back. For not letting pretty significant life events and circumstances hold me back. For going after what I want even when that goes against the norm. For deciding that I am worth it. For deciding to live. For creating a life I’m excited to live. For figuring out what my calling is. For making my dreams a reality. For being able to write that I’m proud of myself and own it, along with everything else I did to get here.
There’s a lot of growing still to do. Lots of expanding on my business to do. Lots of learning and failing. Lots of living and adapting. Even still, I have a weird sense of having already “made it”. And I think it’s because I’ve made a pretty significant shift in my way of thinking about, and living life. I’ve made a switch from suffering until I make it to living my ideal lifestyle WHILE making it.
And I’m not naive; I know there may come a time when something happens and I won’t feel this way or maybe I won’t be able to live the way I want. But enough has happened already that I am certain it won’t break me. I even have my doubts that there is something that would cause me to sacrifice my lifestyle or values. That being said, it’s not that I don’t do my fair share of “sacrificing” aka MAKING CHOICES that may not be ideal – like living in an “apartment” without a kitchen, but I am clear and firm on what I’m willing to sacrifice and what I am not. And being able to live the way I want (mostly meaning being able to have ownership over my TIME) means the most to me. It’s now my non-negotiable and I plan to always build my life around that.
I know I want to live the rest of my life LIVING my life. And I am confident that involves coaching; helping others find their wings and live their best life.
I was starting to freak out about being old earlier this week. Will I regret these decisions when I’m 40? 50? But really, should I be trying to live for future me? Should I even be trying to guess what future me will want? It doesn’t seem like a very valid plan. I mean, old or not, I’ll still be me. And I guess I figure it will be up to the present me to figure out how to make my life meaningful and matter at that age, just like it’s up to 31 year old me to do that now. And if I have regrets, well, that’s just life I suppose. It’s funny to think of this retrospectively though, because everything I imagined 31 year old me would want when I was 20, or even 28, is completely off the mark from what is currently making my life awesome. In fact, I believe I’d be less happy now if I had what 28 year old me wanted me to have. So, more reason to not try to guess what 50 year old Jeana would want me to set up for her to be happy, and just live my fucking life as I know it now.
Maybe my 50 year old self will be ecstatic to be living in a bus, maybe she’ll rather build a mansion, or maybe she’ll rather travel the world endlessly. Fuck knows. So why bother worrying or trying to plan for it? You do you future self, I’ll do me.
The plane’s about to land. I’m ready to take on the next part of my journey, keeping my head above the clouds.