I see myself at age 120: grey, lined and very old; beautiful and wise, surrounded by my family. And, I did it. I actually somehow did it. There I am, looking back at my life, having achieved my fullest and richest potential. That same potential that somehow seems incessantly just beyond my grasp in these blurry years.
“What are your family saying,” prompts Orya, the NLP coach, who is using me as an example of an NLP tool that directs you toward your life’s purpose. And this is the sweet Aha moment for me. My children, the very same ones that ask questions when I am out of fuel or talk when I crave silence, keep me home-bound when I’d like to drive myself anywhere, ask for a tickle at the end of the day when I am empty, the ones who don’t want me to go to the toilet without them for the first few months. Yes those ones. Those ones are beaming fully from eye to eye. They are gazing at me with love and joy and whispering the loudest “yes”.
They are my fans, and are celebrating together with me, even though it meant less of me for them. And I see that they are more than okay. They are good because of the moment I finally realized at age 36 and a half that it was time to dump the heavy ancient cloak of daily martyrdom that I was dragging around with me. The moment I decided to grab a lifeline and pull myself out of the quicksand of domestic overwhelm.
That moment is now.
Right now, instead of organizing and cleaning and thinking about the need for more organizing and cleaning yet again later and forever more, I am saying yes to my life’s vision. I am doing that clichéd thing that’s called showing up and am banging away on my computer on a mission to bring forth whatever G-d wants to come through me in these precious minutes.
And they are cheering. “Don’t waver, be devoted, okay ima?” Save yourself. Save the world, and save us. We know you can do it.”