It's the part of my life, where I'm feeling as though I'm about enter into a new phase of my life. And for once, though I feel quite unsteady about the impending changes, I feel confident and secure in the resources that I have to survive and flourish throughout the transition. Transition is a word that has been tossed around many times in 2013. The transition to Assistant Director. The transition of hiring & firing in a small company, with only 10 employees causes significant waves despite our best efforts to keep things flowing smoothly. The transition of moving into a more serious place in my relationship with Tripp. Where I attend his family funerals, and my family comes to our home for Thanksgiving. Where we talk about purchasing a car together. Where we discuss the effects of my body & birth control together, to find a solution that is good for both of us.

It feels good. And it terrifies me. With every shift, I find my doubts beginning to rise and my lungs expanding as I hold my breath and wait. Wait for what? I don't know. Waiting for the good to end? Waiting for the bad to come? Or maybe just waiting until I've learned to be. Wholly and completely and without reservation. To just let the universe keep spinning around me, and to believe that I am okay. I am where I am because it's where I'm supposed to be, and to trust that the universe will protect me and surround me with the thing I need most. Love. Because when all else falls away, that really is the only thing that you need. I've got love to lean on. I've got arms to hug me, and lips to kiss and eyes to keep me steady when I start to fall. I've got these things, and regardless of what else may happen in the coming months, I do believe that I'll be okay.

There are, for sure, alot of changes coming my way. And I know that I'm being very vague. The biggest being the possibility of the work that makes me want to scream and also fulfills me in so many ways, not being around any longer. Our operating budget is at about 2 months. If we don't raise significant money, fast, not only will I and my coworkers be out of a job, so will 400 of Nashville's homeless community. While the idea scares me, for many reasons, I feel a sense of excitement as I'm faced with the decision of what to do next, if this falls through. The idea that I could be my own boss, and write or create to pay my bills has a small thrill behind it.

This past week, Tripp and I traveled to Charlotte for his grandma's funeral. She had been suffering under a cloud of Alzheimer's, and while I know how painful it is to lose the ones you love, I truly believe that his family has released her into a place of peace without suffering and confusion. When I met her at Christmas, she remembered my name once I was introduced and asked Tripp repeatedly when he was going to marry me. That night, I held him in my arms as he wept. It was the exact moment that I knew I would love him forever. That I knew we stood beside each other, through thick and thin, for better and worse. Six months later, he stared at me and said told me a story of exiting a port-a-pot at Bonnaroo and making direct eye contact with me, or the first try. I was standing in a sea of 100 people, and our eyes met. He said that it makes him said to know that one day, many years from now, one of us will be released from this world, and the other will be forced to live out the remainder of their days, without the comfort and familiarity that we've found in each other, in the last two years.

On our way to Charlotte, we stopped in Atlanta and tried to find a coffee shop. We ended up in a starbucks in a Marriott, that was hosting the RWA2013 awards. That stands for Romance Writers of America, in case you were unsure. While the variety of women ranged from Fabio covered thrift store paper backs, to 50 shades of gray to twilight, I was suddenly reminded that I love to write. And that I'm really good at it. I suddenly had the urge to finish my book, in whatever capacity that means. The last time I actively worked on it was early 2010, just before I moved home. Things have been different since then, and I sort of thought my story was over. But it's not, and there's still parts that need to be told.

The idea of making a living making art has gotten me really excited for the next few months. I want to simplify my life, so that it can be sustained through things I enjoy, that allow me to be my own boss. To do something that I love, without the confines of a corporation, regardless of whether or not it's a non-profit.

And then there's the hardest part that I'm tip-toeing around on a daily basis. My weight. In the last 6 months, I've quit smoking, and started a birth control that has caused my weight to jump about 15 pounds. My clothes don't fit, I had to buy new bras cause my boobs are huge and my belly is round and soft. I'm not saying any of this from a place of hate, but rather from a place, where I feel uncomfortable. I'm working on eating clean(er) and incorporating more fruits and vegetables, upping my water intake, and cutting back on the not-so-healthy things. Have considered both purchasing a juicer and CSA program, as well as taking a hiatus from alcohol... but lets not get too crazy. Essentially making better choices. But I think the biggest change that must be made is some sort of physical activity. Be it yoga, running, or water aerobics at the East Side Community Center.

But literally, all of the above is at the forefront of my mind and these are the back burner things that I'd like to direct some thought to, but in no way is it overpowering the better things happening in my world. It feels so good to articulate that last paragraph from a place of self-love. I'm doing well, I'm adjusting and being molded. I'm expanding my thoughts and ideas, and my heart. I'm learning to see the big picture and not get hung up on the feelings that come and go. I'm learning that EVERYthing is connected, or nothing is at all. My heart is beating, my feet are moving, and my eyes are always smiling.

Happy summer, ya'll.