Weeding Out Toxicity

I just felt called to write – about I don't know what – but called to free-write for the first time in so long. So, so very long. I can't remember how long-long. Which feels great. And now I'm here, fingers on the keys on the blog, which is such a positive, therapeutic, open flow space for me, for better or for worse, which I've avoided (subconsciously) for more than a year now. 

When I took my first serious (read: not freelance and way too corporate) job since my Bunna Bear was born, I had to sign about 600 pieces of paper in the Human Resources office before they could say, "Alright, let's get it on!"

Naturally, I didn't even last one year there. I poured energy into them, vision for the future, a sprinkle of naïveté, which is the trademark that gets me to really great places (could be bravery, could be don't know, could be fresh outta fucks... but it's usually somewhere in the middle). And they suffocated me with a pillow and drowned me in hierarchical stagnancy in return. That didn't work for me, so #BYE.

Since then, I've been iron-clad focused on eliminating the remaining waste that has brought me to the most challenging, life-changing, fucked up place of my life. 

As I ran to get my computer to open this up and start this little brain dump, I noticed that amongst the truly offensive mess that is my home, my sparkling beacon of a Christmas tree just needed me to honor it with a selfie. So I grabbed my phone, snapped a shot, and sat to post it on Instagram while opening my computer (MY BRAIN CAN'T DO ONE THING AT A TIME ANYMORE, IT IS ADDICTED TO DOING MANY THINGS BADLY AT ONCE #TRUTH #REALTALK), and saw the following post that my friend Neffi Walker, who is an infusion of I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR AND ALSO GET THE FUCK OUT MY WAY! (Read more about her here), was angelically sent to post and make me laugh and give this post a: "Yes! 🙋🏼‍♀️That is what I need to say right now."

But, that's it. We always get so nostalgic and reflective when a year comes to an end, and that's where I'm at. I'm done, I've got to be done with the bullshit circus and I have fought like an animal in captivity hell-bent on escape this year to make sure those around me know I'm done with the bullshit circus. I've served my time. Then again. Done.

May 2018 usher in a new energy and the space I am clearing be filled with anti-toxicity.