Ready

Allison Nazarian The Life of Allison

When I think of my plan over the next few weeks and then of the audacious goals I have for the future months, I am not overcome with my usual emotions of doubt (“C’mon Allison, you really think that can happen?”) and dismissiveness (“Whatever, it’s just a silly dream anyway”) and overwhelm (“It’s just too much for one person”).

Sure, I still entertain that Jerky Trio of doubt, dismissiveness and overwhelm, but, well, they feel different.

Less real. Not as authoritative. Not their usual all-knowing selves.

They tell me the same-old-same-old stuff:

“You’re no different from anyone else.”

“Your dreams are no more important than the next girl’s.”

“Whatever your great idea is, trust me it has been done before.”

They tell me those things, as usual, but my reaction is different. I feel different. I am different.

What I feel is ready.

Ready.

Ready for what is to come. For what I am certain is coming. To let the doubt and overwhelm and dismissiveness do what they need to do but to rise above them and keep going. To, in honor of my 40th year (or maybe it is actually my 41st), re-set the bar for all that I am and all I want to accomplish.

Ready.

Ready to go for it, from shopping my book Year of Single to agents starting in January to launching an online community around my Love Your Mess movement to developing writing programs for people who want to write about real life to finding ways to volunteer with prisoners and/or senior citizens who also want to use writing as a tool for peace and self-discovery.

Ready.

Ready to stop apologizing for what I want or who I really am. For agonizing over whether I am leaving someone behind, or over their drama or their challenges or their bad patterns and habits.

Ready.

Ready to not give up or even think about giving up when I hit the inevitable roadblocks.

Ready.

Ready to banish the phrase “get a real job” form my self-talk.

Ready.

Ready to show the people I love, the people in the inner circle of my life, just what they mean to me every single day. To give – and receive – love in new and deep and, still, simple, ways.

Ready.

Ready to practice gratefulness and give thanks as part of everything I do.

Ready.

Ready to always remember where I have come from, how far I have come and who I am at the deepest part of my soul. Ready to remember that maybe last year at this time or even last month, I may not have been ready. Or I was a different kind of ready. And maybe the same for you: Maybe you aren’t yet ready, or maybe your readiness is old news. Ready to remember your path is not mine, and mine is not yours.

Ready.

Ready to stop worrying if my language offends. Ready to stop wondering if you think I am nice or not. Ready to stop the B.S. that does still exist in some areas of my life. To say “no” like a champ more often. Ready to be more patient. To be better at practicing compassion. To be less judgmental. To not have the need to control or even convince. To know that what works for me may not work for you. Ready to not get all bent out of shape around people who insist on bringing politics or religion into the conversation. To get out of said conversations with class and tact and respect. To know when to ignore and when to engage. To have more fun. Yes, more.

Yes, I am ready.

What about you?