Real Life Magic: a story from my life #3

a practice to find my authentic writing voice (continued):

Real Life Magic: a story from my life #3

About a year and a half ago, I was feeling confused about what direction to go in my life. I felt unfulfilled by my job and unsure if I should follow my heart to start my own creative business or keep the paycheck and do my fun creative things on the side.

I definitely wasn’t getting anywhere near a solution by looping the same old stale thoughts in my brain. One morning while I was staying at my mom’s house, I decided to go to Meme’s grave (my deceased maternal grandmother) and talk to her about it.

I sat down cross-legged in front of her grave and quietly told her what was happening. I told her that I thought my dream had always been to have my own creative business. Something that blended the following: leading retreats, writing, sharing Real Life Magic with the world, and teaching how to playfully and sustainably weave mindfulness, yoga philosophy, spiritual surrender, and wonder into our daily lives. All of this felt impossible, entitled, frivolous, absurd, overwhelming, etc. I didn’t even know where to start, or how to narrow it down, and I had the nagging voice of “Who the hell am I anyway?” on repeat in my brain.

Couldn’t I just be happy with my normal job and not put more work on my shoulders? Couldn’t I just have normal hobbies that I could do just for fun or just chill and watch TV in my free time?

I begged Meme for a clear sign that I should follow my heart and pursue my creative dreams because I was exhausted by my inner confusion and desperate for help. I wanted a clear message, one that I would understand, none of these bullshit elusive signs. I wanted the real deal. Specifically, I demanded that a hummingbird be included in this message, so I knew I was on the right track. I handed the burden of this choice to her and decided if I didn’t get that very clear sign that day, I would give up on my creative dreams and just stay at my job. It felt a weight lifted off my shoulders. Now the ball was in her court to make this choice for me.

Yeah yeah, I know what you’re thinking, it wasn’t fair to put that on Meme, an innocent ancestor probably just trying to rest and enjoy whatever afterlife there is. What can I say, desperate times call for desperate measures.

I stood up from the grave, walked back to the car, and got swept up in daily work and life and forgot about it.

Later that afternoon I was lazily laying on the floor at my Mom’s house with my sister Morgan while we played with my baby niece Florence. In the middle of whatever conversation we were having, Morgan randomly looked at me and said, “Chelsea I forgot to tell you! You’ll never guess what we found!” She jumped up and left the room and came back with a small pile of children’s books.

“We were looking through our old childhood books to find some for Florence,” she continued, “and we found a bunch of your old books with messages to you from Meme!”

The first book she handed me was, "Disney’s Pocahontas: Into the Forest”, with a hummingbird on the front cover, and a message on the inside cover written to me from my grandmother Meme.

When I digested what I was holding, chills spread through my body, and teared up when I saw the Hummingbird next to the message from Meme. I am not sure if a more evident, sign-ier, sign could have come my way. I briefly thought to myself, “Whoa, ok I’m a witch…” but then snapped back to reality and accepted the damn sign.

Maybe my creative business dreams were meant to be followed after all. At least I could do my best to baby step my way there and see what flowed. And when the rational part of my mind told me that none of this was real, I remembered it didn’t matter and that the very act of looking for a sign is a sign in itself. A subconscious sign that deep down I want to do something scary and I am looking externally for anything to confirm it. But, I prefer the Real Life Magic version of the story that it was Meme who sent me a sign anyway, it is way more fun.

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