Ezra has adopted a charming little 3-year-old-ism lately, when he doesn't get what he wants. It goes something like, I never EVER get (fill in the blank) even if that is patently and demonstrably false. Even if he just got exactly what he wanted five minutes ago or if exactly what he wants is promised to him five minutes from now. But it's not RIGHT NOW, and therefore feels like Never Ever.
I have been in quite a huff this week, feeling petulant and impatient for the life I want to finally start. My internal iPod has been running the I never EVER get script on repeat and I have been moping around in a fashion totally unbecoming of an adult who already has more blessings that she deserves.
Then my friend Kelly called and said an intuitive told her to "Trust The Process," which made me sit up a little straighter because it is the precise mantra that arose at last fall's photography camp. Kelly said she is excited to introduce me to a director she is working with and full of ideas and hope about artful collaborations.
Then I got an out-of-the-blue e-mail from an editor I love saying "when are you going to move to LA so you can work with me? I have so many ideas I can't sleep at night."
Another friend pinged me to say that we have to catch up and she has ideas to share about work to do together.
Then a colleague cornered me and told me that it's time for me to be the change I want to see and make my work.
All this came in a handful of days this week when I was hell-bent on wallowing in stuckness, but even I was starting to brattily concede that the Universe might be trying to tell me something.
I opened Facebook and there was a message from my old friend Jackie, who is moving to San Francisco in a few weeks, asking me if I have a cruiser bike.
Let me preface this by saying that only a few days before, as a girl on a cruiser passed in front of my car, I said out loud to my mom I really want to get a cruiser bike like that, and I want it to have a basket and I want to be able to ride it to the studio that will house my new work life.
So I responded to Jackie that I don't have a cruiser but I'm dying to get one and if she has one she needs to offload before she moves I'm very interested.
She wrote back that this is a bike her former husband (and my friend) Dylan gave her before he died and she's been wondering for a year what to do with it. Yesterday morning she woke up with the answer that she needs to give it to me because I loved Dylan and he loved me and it might give me some joy to have something of his.
All of this is to say that I was resisting all that positive feedback that I have been getting from people all week, but then the cruiser bike landed in my lap. So now I have to concede that, yes, Universe, I know you are listening. Thanks for the sign. I surrender. I will trust your process.