Slower, Wealthier, Happier

Good morning, beautiful. ☀️

As we close out the month of May, I find myself thinking about fear. Not the big dramatic fear that makes headlines or announces itself when it walks into the room. I’m talking about the quiet fear. The fear that shows up at 2:00 in the morning when you’re alone with your thoughts. The fear that asks questions you don’t yet have answers for. Over the last couple of months, recovery has reminded me just how powerful our minds can be. Our minds will lean in whatever direction we train them to lean, and for many of us, we’ve spent years becoming experts at finding what could go wrong instead of noticing what could go right. Today I am walking without my walker, and while that sentence feels simple when I type it, it carries so much more than words can explain.

There was a time, not very long ago, when walking without assistance felt impossibly far away. There were moments when fear whispered that maybe things would never be different, that maybe this was as good as it was going to get, that maybe this would become my new normal. Looking back now, it is easy to say it was all part of the process, but living inside that process felt completely different. It can be challenging when things are uncertain. It can be challenging when you are unsure when things will change, especially when you are someone who likes plans, timelines, and knowing what comes next. I remember asking my surgeon how long it would take before I felt like myself again, and without hesitation he said, “As long as it takes.” Y’all, I wanted a number. I wanted a date. I wanted something I could hold onto and count down toward. Instead, I got a lesson that I didn’t appreciate at the time.

I also remember showing up to one of my follow-up appointments completely convinced I was about to be released from weekly visits. In my mind, I had already decided that was the appointment. The final one. The week everything changed. Instead, I was told to come back again. And again. And again. Eventually I stopped trying to predict the finish line and stopped negotiating with the process. I simply gave myself permission to say, “Okay. It is what it is, and it will be what it will be.” Strangely enough, that brought peace. Not certainty. Not answers. Just peace. Because sometimes the hardest thing isn’t the challenge itself; it’s not knowing how long the challenge will last.

As a business owner, I find myself sitting in that same space more often than I would like. Waiting for the next client. The next contract. The next opportunity. The next breakthrough. Wanting answers that simply have not arrived yet. And fear loves those spaces. Fear loves unanswered questions, unfinished stories, and uncertainty. But what I am learning is that fear doesn’t get to make the final decision. You can acknowledge the fear. You can acknowledge that it feels real. You can acknowledge that there are things you genuinely don’t know. And you can still move forward anyway.

A few days ago, my husband and I were discussing some really big plans for our future. At one point he looked at me and asked, “What are you going to do if the thing you want doesn’t happen?” Normally, I would have launched into a detailed Plan B. A backup strategy. A spreadsheet. A flow chart. Something. Instead, I surprised myself. I looked at him and said, “I don’t know.” And for the first time, I meant it. I don’t know exactly how everything is going to come together. I don’t know exactly when it will happen. I don’t know what every step will look like. And maybe that’s what reaching the end of yourself feels like—not giving up, not quitting, not losing hope, but finally releasing the illusion that you have to know everything before you take the next step.

So if fear has been visiting you lately, I want to remind you of something. Eight weeks ago, I wasn’t walking. Today, I am. Not perfectly. Not gracefully. Not completely. But I am. Progress happened before I could fully see it, and maybe that’s true for you too. Maybe there are things moving forward right now that you cannot yet measure. Maybe answers are forming that you cannot yet see. Maybe the next chapter is already unfolding, even if you don’t have the blueprint. So today, instead of asking fear to leave, maybe we simply acknowledge that it’s here and keep walking anyway. One step, one day, one possibility at a time.

Love,

Your Most Magical Self 💫