A Calendar of Your Own Creation

This hit me when I was sitting at my computer after a fulfilling and energizing 15-hour work day. Those aren't rare. They happen quite often, lately. But boy! Do I remember the ones that passed and weren't so energizing, at all. Those were the days when long days began with a scone at Starbucks and ended with an expensive dinner out somewhere. No homecooking. No way. And I'm talking just a few years ago.

But the other night, I was sitting and working. It was late, 9:45pm, almost my bedtime (we will talk about that in a second). I had more work brewing and stewing in my brains and flowing out to my fingertips but there was not enough time to complete it. Not enough time to keep going. I so desperately wanted to keep writing, searching, formulating, experimenting, visioning--but it was bedtime.

I've prioritized an early bedtime for the past three years. I will write about that in another blog post. But prioritizing that bedtime goal means I have to call it quits at some point. Macbook cover closes. Lights off. Buddha statue beside my bed gets some pillow talk and I check Instagram a few times. Facebook gets a once-over. I attempt to read whatever's by my bedside.

Eyes shut. Fade to black.

As I sat there the other night at my computer, I felt this familiar uneasiness from a few years ago. If I stop now, I'll never get this done and I won't be able to make my dreams come true. And then I breathe, and remember. It's not like it was. I am not spending my time doing anything other than what I love. I open up my calendar, created by me, and I look at it. I see the blank boxes waiting to be filled with tasks and to-do items related to my business. MY business. Created by me. Written into my calendar, created by me.

I create what goes in the boxes, when I do it and where and why I make it happen. I create a life that supports this freedom.

It wasn't like this for a long time. And I see now that I made it that way. I chose things to do and ways to spend my time (namely around work) that didn't line-up with the change I wanted to see in the world. Or the change I wanted to be. Or the person I wanted to be. I see a huge correlation between the work I do and the person I am. When I wasn't pursuing my dream, I was grumpy and disgruntled. I did the work, yes, and I was responsible and effective in many ways. But I didn't shine. As a healthy living coach, I shine now.

I struggled a lot over the past few years to conquer the gremlin inside that said it could never be, that I could never experience this kind of joy, gratitude and abundance in my life--let alone on my own terms doing something I love and was "born to do". A client said that to me the other night. "Dillan," she said, "you were born to do this." She would know. We went to high school together. Yep, a former classmate is now a beloved client of mine. And her life is evolving beautifully from our work together. She's said on more than one occasion, "see, this was the reason we met back then. To do this together now."

I love that.

I love it and I agree with it. Everything we are doing is part of what we are meant to become. When I finally got serious and got out of my own way, I had to be clear and brave and work really hard to get here against some pretty crazy odds. And I still battle that little gremlin inside that wants me to go back to work I "could do" but isn't what I "want" to do. There's a big difference, for me. When I feel aligned with what I want to do, when I want to do it and where, I feel energized, gratified and fulfilled. I am positive, grateful and cooperative. I feel content. I feel happy. I feel in the driver's seat.

My life feels like a dream now and I spend most days hoping someone won't wake me from it.

Opening my calendar and plugging in tasks, errands and items to check off before a bedtime I set and meet each night are gorgeous parts of my dream life. A dream life I was told I could have if I only believed in myself enough and was willing to do whatever it took to get there. I don't know if I'm there yet, but I feel much closer than I was. A lot closer.

And it's pretty damn awesome, if you ask me.