Darling. It appears that summer’s crusting over with tangerine-lit foliage as I write this. Do me a favor and don’t Google “crusting over.” But envision it: our wet hot American selves papier-mâchéd into a festive autumnal pinata, baked into a pumpkin pie, blanketed in dry, yellow lichen. Sort of nice, yeah? Nice and seasonal.
Before I look very forward to the black capelet/opera glove/combat boot combo I hope to rock with my pink hair this fall, and the absurd amounts of squash I plan to eat until I’m tangerine-lit, myself; I’d like to acknowledge the fact that I haven’t been here all summer. In fact, I haven’t been to summer all summer… I feel like someone “forgot” to invite me. To summer.
I haven’t been to the beach. I haven’t tripped around Logan Square, rosé drunk and sticky and ready for love… I mean, I’ve done less of that than is my usual practice. Rather, I’ve been hustling, but I’ve been hustling with purpose. I find myself constantly surrounded by people who inspire me and look to me for inspiration. Just yesterday, I met with a health coach who specializes in women with disordered eating — who’s grateful for her own ED experience because it means she’s better able to counsel others. I met with a young female entrepreneur who left the corporate world to build her own business around wellness and I had the privilege of hearing her story over kale salads. I planned three upcoming events with a printmaker who’s obsessed with alchemy — a pop-up gallery, a dinner wherein chefs and local artists are creatively paired, and an exhibit featuring delightfully creepy art inspired by our wares. I prepped for a pop-up shop featuring local artisans, I brainstormed article ideas for a plant-based column I hope to start, I looked ahead to a plant-based book launch we’re helping with… and this was all yesterday. It was just a Wednesday, like the Wednesday before it, where I got to focus my vitality on all of the things I love and obsess over. And I get to do that again today.
That’s not to say this summer has been without its challenges — it’s been a transition, to be sure, and when I’m surrounded by so much newness and so much less time, it becomes all too easy for me to lose myself… to be eaten alive by all the ways I’m not enough. I have to perpetually check myself, say “Yo Girl. Be consumed with joy. Be consumed with ideas — focus your freak outs on how very you your life is becoming. No more I’m not experienced enough or glamorous enough or well-connected enough.” What I have is exactly enough, and I keep coming back to that. We’re enough, chick. You and me. We good.
So hai. I’m here and I love you. Who knows when I’ll be back… maybe soon! Maybe winter 2015. But in the meantime, I’m geeking out over all the stories I’ve been privy to with my new gig — stories of how so many boss-ass ladies have become themselves. I’d love to hear about your becoming you, or any stories you’ve got lately. Email me at rosetruesdaleATgmailDOTcom, leave me a comment or 4. Be in touch. Fill me in.