Self Known

This is a transparent monthly reflection where I take the time to look back, view my progress and make adjustments. Monthly Project: Hand write a letter to someone I love and send it. Sadly, I did not do this. Time slipped away and I didn't make this one a priority. Better luck next month, Rosie!
Health → Exercise 3 days/week, drink 65oz. water/day
Exercise checked off in bullet journal habit keeper: Yes → I exercised 14/13 days.

Water checked off in bullet journal habit keeper: Yes → I drank 65 oz. of water 11/31 days.

Relationships → Reach out to one new person a week How many people I reached out to or met: 5

Did I ask them a deep/personal question? Yes and no.
Did I record my encounters? Yes. Finances → Grow to $7k/month I earned $585 this month: No

If no, how much money did I make? $75
Career → Prep book for publication I chose a book: Yes → The Messy Months: August to December

I began editing The Messy Months: Yes

I edited a full draft: No, but I DID do a full draft read th…

I was up late one night, scrolling through my Instagram feed and telling myself to get some sleep. But once I've gotten a taste of the world and all it has to offer, it's hard to turn my brain off.

I thought about the college girls get together I was going to go to. What I was going to share - should I be deep and personal? Or is it not worth the pain? What if I cry? - and what I was going to say. I mean, what if I told them about my favorite book and how it strikes me where all the favorite books do (in the heart) because the guy chooses the gal first and things aren't always perfect between the couple but they love.

And she.

She is always his first choice.

And then I cried because there is so much talent out there, the world is so big, and I want to play my part - a whole, independent part - but there is this hungry, fleshy part of me that crieslongs desires companionship.

To be valued enough to be someone's first choice. Not romantically. But purely. To have someon…

Human beings are strange creatures.
We isolate our own kind. Judge based on our senses and react according to what our emotions say.

And yet.

Somewhere out there, one of us is scooping a child that is not our own blood into our arms, whispering: It's okay. You're safe now.

One of us is donating money. And if not money, time.

Another is carefully structuring a story that will crumble the hearts of millions of fangirls. (Is this good? Is this evil? Who am I to say?)

Humans are tricky. Life is sticky. But even when you can't navigate a situation. Even when the earth twists up and your sense of direction is lost...

When you give in to your demons and lower yourself so they shackle your wrists and ankles for the afternoon.

Humans. We always do one thing.

Rise.

Bringing along the cracked foundations, broken bones and peeling skin, we rise as one and we rise as a mass. We bring together our shattered pieces to fuse into something so much better than the Original Masterpiece.

Aft…