When I think back on my life and the stories contained within my life, there’s a period of my life that feels particularly not-alive. And yet, even within that not-as-alive-as-it-is-now period of time, there are so many happy memories and frustrating memories and I can see how my path was unfolding, even then.
This period of time was in the early years of my marriage, when we were still living in Michigan. My husband had been diagnosed with a chronic kidney disease a month after our first anniversary, we moved frequently the first couple of years before settling into a condo, and my early career was a little rocky while I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I finally landed on a good job over an hour away.
After a period of turmoil and constant change, everything suddenly became…monotonous. I settled into a dreary routine of getting up early, going to my favorite coffee shop (still can’t find better coffee than Espresso Elevado, please relocate to Texas, okay?), drive an hour and a half to work, work (through lunch so I could leave early), drive home. We’d get take-out from the Greek place once a week, walk to our neighborhood bar once a week, walk downtown on the weekends, meet up with friends for dinner, I’d buy a new dress or two once a month, get my hair done every 6 weeks, visit my husband’s parents every other week on a Sunday afternoon and on and on and on.
None of those things are bad. Not even one of them. And also, very few of those things are dripping with aliveness, humming with the vibration of a life lived deeply and well. They’re all..existing, without much beyond that.
This wasn’t the life I wanted to be living. I’ve spent my entire life asking myself, “how can this be more alive?”
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Depth to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.