I am flying home from Oregon and writing from the sky. The gentleman sitting next to me is reading this with a side eye and my feeling of being exposed makes me nearly shield the screen from his sight. I laugh at the irony of how this is meant to be shared and instead make the font bigger so he can read it with more ease.

I am returning from spending five beautiful nights with my family for Thanksgiving where I simply could not get enough of my nephew’s 14 month old cuteness. I was having a hard day a couple of weeks back and I called my sister to see if he was still awake, just to see him, hear him. He brings the purest of joy and comfort to me. He brings me Home.

I cried on the way to the airport. It wasn’t from having to leave, though by the time we arrived that sadness layered on, too. My sister asked about my plans for next year. I spoke openly, from the heart, shared the dreams I have to build a life with a man who is not there. She suggested, lovingly, to perhaps let that dream go. I said I don’t know how to not have hope.

I recently shared my situation with a new friend. He said, “I don’t know how you do it…being in love with someone who’s not around…” I smiled and replied, “It’s not really a choice.” The heart is a guide and I am the passenger. It’s crazy how I can still get excited about this Love, even if I’m in it alone. It’s been powerful to proclaim that Yes, I Am In Love, and No, He Is Not Here. It’s a tricky dance. How much of what I hold space and faith for is real and knowing? How much is illusion? Nothing’s clear other than Do The Very Best You Can. With everything.

It’s been an incredibly potent time of personal growth. In a spoken word piece that I recently wrote I shared how I am looking at “all of this as a gigantic opportunity to become the person I dream of, bring forth my best self to the fire”, that I want to heal all of it. Several people have been surprised to learn about this heartache, especially those who have reflected to me that I’m Thriving. They say they never would have guessed. I’m not trying to hide it, I am just working hard to focus on all the other Love that needs my attention, too; to continue moving towards the Light and Listening as my path unfolds. Some days are easier than others, like with everything.

I’ve spent the majority of my life dealing with pain privately behind closed doors. What I’m finding though as years of self-work pay off is there are fewer and fewer closed doors…more open ones…shining, vibrant, open ones saying YES…wanting to be seen, beckoning to be heard, asking to be run through. I am running and remind myself every day that I am willing to move through all of this. That I am willing to work hard, speak up, become worn. That I am willing to put myself out there and Stand in Trust and in Love and in Service. I want so deeply to be my best self. For all of us. No matter what.

And so it is.

And so I trust.

And so I share and stand and grow.

I hold all of it Up, steep in patience and pray.