WHY I STARTED WRITING:
When I was 31, my career was on the rise but my spirit was in decline. Feeling perpetually burned out and unfulfilled, I took a leap of faith and left my six-figure job, despite being the breadwinner in my relationship and on the verge of paying for both a wedding and new home – two of the largest expenses a person may face in a lifetime.
Unemployed, I waited (im)patiently for the universe to respond. But nothing happened. Weeks and eventually months went by, and my leap began to feel more like an unwanted freefall. Now on an ultra-strict budget, gardening, backyard meditation and walks through the neighborhood became my new forms of entertainment – all to be done alone while my husband, friends and family went to work.
But through my alone-time with nature, work of my own was getting done. As I became more connected with my surroundings, I also became more connected with myself. I began to examine my life as it had turned out, which in some ways was in stark contrast to the dream I had designed for myself as a child. But, before long, the next incarnation of myself appeared before me in a flourish of words. They were unexpectedly written by my own hands, and pointed me in a singular direction. This is how LIVING IN BLOOM was born.
WHAT THIS BOOK IS ABOUT:
LIVING IN BLOOM is a book about the journey of reinvention. It celebrates the internal “blossoming” that occurs when we reconnect with our dreams while staying planted in our experienced, adult lives. Part reflective-narrative, part how-to guide, you’ll be encouraged to dig deep, nourish your source and embrace the bloom of your eminent, new life.
YOUR OFFICIAL ‘SNEAK PEEK’:
“The flower withers, but the seed remains.”
Isn’t it funny how we spend our lives trying to become the person we’re destined to be? Yet – when you think about it – the “ultimate” person we’re chasing actually bears a striking resemblance to the child we once were. All those natural talents and interests we had long ago once translated into dreams – dreams that later may have fallen by the waste side of practicality, more immediate results, unplanned events or severe pressure from others.
And now, no matter how old we are, we’re feeling desperate to change the course of our circumstances as easily as a train switches tracks. If only you could transition from the path you’re on to the one you envisioned for yourself so many years, inches, and pounds ago. The good news is, you can – but it will take a newfound acceptance of “what is,” paired with a profound adjustment of what “can be.”
Think of it this way: As you aged and gathered new experiences, the person you were slowly evolved into the person you are. And because your childhood dream is ever-connected to you like a root connected to a tree, it grew right along with you, whether you noticed it or not.
The problem is, so many of us are still clinging to our dreams as they were back then, when in reality, we are now fully matured. Choosing to see our dreams as adolescents – void of experience, greater knowledge and global understanding – is similar to a parent sending her child off to college, all the while picturing him as the Cheerio-eating toddler watching Sesame Street on the front room floor.
If we allow ourselves to see our dreams in the full maturity of their adulthood, though, then perhaps we will see that they truly do align with where we are in this perfect, present moment. They may not resemble the ones from years’ past, but neither do we! Yet, the root of them will always be the same.
When I was a child, I dreamed of being both a writer and a singer. My vision for myself was working at a magazine in NYC while going on tour to promote my latest album. I also dreamed of being a wife and mother. Oh, and did I mention that in my dream, all of this occurred by the time I was 25? As an adult, I had to accept that the dream itself was unrealistic – a fabulous notion, as seen through the eyes of a child, of what one woman could do in a very short period of time. As an over-achiever, it took some time for me to get this. Let’s just say my entire twenties can be summed up by the ancient proverb: “The man who chases two rabbits catches neither.”
However, the root of the dream wasn’t wrong – I have always been naturally gifted at both writing and singing. So, I recently asked myself how my dream could look now, through the eyes of a person with life experiences and all the bruises to prove it. Not only did I see my dream for what it had become, but I also let go of what it used to be. And let me tell you, letting go of something you’ve lugged around for years feels like selling a family heirloom at a swap meet. It’s painful and heart wrenching, but ultimately necessary to becoming the person you want to be.
Once the pain subsided, though, seeing my dream reframed through grown-up eyes made me feel like I had breathed new life into it. I was overcome with a renewed sense of motivation, and urgency, to turn my dream into a bona fide goal. However, I also knew that, just like I had to let go of my childhood notion of what my life should be, I also had to say goodbye to very real areas of my current life that wouldn’t serve this goal’s purpose. It would be uncomfortable, scary, and messy – like any birthing process is.
With an abundance of life all around us each day, it isn’t difficult to conjure up an image of birth. Maybe you remember that of your own child’s, or the moment your sibling called to tell you that you have a new niece or nephew. Maybe you’ve even coaxed your beloved cat as she gave birth to a new litter. There are so many precious moments in this life that beget more life. But, for the sake of this precious moment, I’d like you to picture the birthing process of a plant. To me, this is one of the greatest wonders of all.
A tiny seed – no bigger than a speck – can sprout the mightiest tree or the most delicate flower. First, small fractures in the seed’s outer shell begin to form, until finally, there’s a crack. Next, a root pushes downward into the soil, to steady itself, and to gain life-sustaining nutrients. Then, a stem pushes upward, extending itself toward the light. But my favorite part of all is what lies inside the seed all along: an embryo, which, like a baby, resembles a tiny version of what the mature plant will eventually become.
So as we begin to realign our childhood dreams with our more mature set of circumstances, remember this: Inside of you, right now – beyond the hard, cracked, outer shell – is, and always has been – the greater promise of your new life, waiting to break through.
Interested in reading more? Reserve your pre-order spot now! As soon as the book becomes available, you’ll be one of the first in line to get it at a special, discounted rate.