Note to self

Hey Kels,

I know you’ve been going through a tough time.
I know you thought your life was going to look a lot different at this point.
And I know this is really hard for you.

Do you know where you are?
Take a good look.
For the first time in your life,
you’re smack in the middle of tension.
The dip.
The shit.
The slump.
Welcome.

I know you hate it here.
I know you want to leave.
I know you feel left behind.

But look at what you’re doing.

You’re asking the tough questions.
Who’s it for?
What’s it for?

You’re quieting all that chatter.
You’re adjusting the frequency.
You’re creating space for possibility.

You’re emotionally letting go.
You’re learning to not know.
You’re taking it one step at a time.

And guess what?

You’re going to be fine.

You may not make a decision at the end of the altMBA.
You may not make a decision at the start of the new year.
That’s ok.
Here’s the catch.
You will not make a decision if you’re aiming for the right answer.
Because there is no right answer.

You can find more clarity.
You can summon more courage.
You can cultivate more curiosity.

And one day,
maybe where you least expect it,
you will have an answer.
How exciting.

Until then,
lean in to resistance,
embrace the tension,
hold on to the gifts of the past,
let go of what you don’t need anymore,
and savor that silence.

Listen.
And when you hear it,
turn that shit up.

Trust the process.

Love,
Kels

P.S. I’m your biggest fan.

Sunset Miles

I went for a run this evening.

Because I slept in this morning,
I sat at a desk all day,
I ate an entire bar of chocolate last night,
and a candy bar during my lunch break,
and I texted that boy back
because he's fun.

To some degree, it was a good idea.

Because the sunset was beautiful,
the air was refreshing,
the pavement was comforting,
the water was calming,
the pain was distracting
and I was feeling better.

To another degree, it was stupid idea.

Because I started off with an aggressive pace,
I forgot how buggy it gets at night,
I ate too much for dinner,
and had half a glass of cheap Pinot Grigio,
I could barely see the sidewalk,
and I wanted to vomit.

But I did it.

Romantic?
Sure.
Stupid?
More likely.
Would I do it again?
Ha.

Every time

Every time he reaches out,
don't forget he shut you down.

Every time he makes you smile,
don't forget he makes your eye twitch.

Every time you miss that warm water,
don't forget to take a cold shower.

Every time you hear that song,
don't forget you can skip it.

Every time you muse over that night,
don't forget the rude awakening.

Every time you think it's different,
don't forget it's always the same.

Every time you miss it,
remember that you don't need it.

Every time he says it's just friends,
remember there's no such thing.

Rewire your imagination.
Rewrite your story.
Reframe your perspective.

You've done it before.
You'll do it again.

What are you waiting for?

Priority

He says "when our schedules allow".
I hear "you're not a priority".
He says "friends".
I hear "convenience".
Stop talking.
Start listening.

An Apology

I forgot how to play.
Play became work.
"Success" become paramount.
Everything but was "failure".
Then you showed up
and you made me laugh.
You told me it's ok
to not know.
But I wanted answers.
I wanted facts.
I wanted to get it "right".
I made it "serious".
I added pressure.
I killed possibility.
And now,
I'm sorry.

Sports

People around the world really care about soccer.
Football.
I used to be one of those people.
Well- 
let me be clear.
I care(d) about a man
(boy?)
who cares about soccer.
Soccer was one of the first things I quit.
My future with the sport was doomed from the start.
Are we laughing about that yet?

People in the United States really care about baseball.
The Great American Pastime.
I've never been one of those people.
And
let me be clear.
I care(d) about a boy
(man?)
who cares about baseball.
Baseball was one of those things I never got into.
My interest in the sport never took off.
Isn't that ironic?

Too much

I think we should stop.
I think you should leave.
I want more space
I want more time
to figure out
to write out
my feelings
my thoughts.
There is too much
There is too little
for me
from me
on the line.
on the page.
I care too much.
I edit too much.

Music is Personal

"Without music, life would be a mistake." 
- Friedrich Nietzsche

I remember

nights towards the end of summer,

we blast Fleetwood Mac out of 

big stereo speakers and 

dance around the coffee table while 

singing along at the top of our lungs.

All the sliding glass doors are be open and 

for that moment

it feels like summer will never end.

We made playlists.
It was my idea.
He told me he was great at making mix CDs
back in the day
so naturally I asked for one.
He agreed only if
I made one for him.
This was on my way to the airport.

I'm freaking out a little
because music is personal.
Sharing music is intimate.
What if he doesn't like it?

But once I started,
it became fun.
I had my playlist finished by the time I landed.

Suddenly, those old songs 
meant new things.
The songs from the year we made that first bet,
the bet he lost.
Although, I think in the end 
we both won.

Both playlists ended with the same song.
Coincidence?
No such thing.
Modern romance.
We have a problem.
You're sneaking into my space.
The space that I spent these last 80 days reclaiming.
But I like having you there.
I want you to be there
and that terrifies me.
Because what does that mean?

JK

It's 
floating and falling
all at once.

It's
starting and stalling
at the same time.

It's
placation and provocation
in perfect unison.

It's
magical and miserable
in equal amounts.

I can't get a grip.
I don't have the words.

I hate you.
JK.

Gifting Myself

I am abandoning perfectionism.
I am rescuing my creativity.
I gift myself permission to fall.
I gift myself the chance to rise.
There will be no single answer.
There will be lots of bad ideas.
Trust the process.
You got this.

My Favorite Distraction

You're a familiar day-dream.
You're a recurring nightmare.
It's simple.
It's complicated.
I'm at ease.
I'm off balance.
You're my favorite distraction.
You're my dreaded exception.

How

How can I draw a map
if I'm afraid to look up
at the new landscape?
You can't.

How do I embrace the new
if I'm having trouble
letting go of the old?
You don't.

How am I going to move forward
if I'm secretly wishing
I could go back?
You won't.

At times like this
my mom says to me,
"You know what you need to do."
She's right.

Connections

Maybe we're all just trying to connect.

That's why communication is such a big deal.

To connect, we need to clear the way.

So that ideas/ thoughts/ feelings can flow between two people freely.

Clear the way of clutter.

All the clutter that doesn't matter.

money,
jewelry,
fancy dinners,
expensive wine,
fast cars,
designer drugs,
pretty faces,
small talk.

Take it all away and what are we left with?

...hold please.

Try

I'm not a superhero.
I'm not a punching bag.
I can't stop the train.
Stop pushing me onto the tracks.
But I will try.
Will you try?

Reconstruction

In being with him,
I seceded with parts of myself.

I'm putting myself back together.

"Art"

I learned your "art".
I forgot about mine.
That "art" 
My art 
was "good".
was "struggling".

Resistance

Too close for comfort.
Too close for discomfort.
Push back.
Pull ahead.
Take a seat.
Take a leap.

Push It

I push myself
I push the limits
as far as I can.
as far as they let me.
I never break.
They stay intact.
Well, I broke.
Well, they broke.
I didn't expect it.
I didn't try to stop it.
Surprise.
No surprise.

Finding Home

You were my escape.
You were my home.
Everything was new.
Everything was safe.
I wanted a home.
I needed an escape.