I've made a few vision boards in my life.  Like, more than a few, I've made a bunch. Usually a collection of pictures and words and phrases cut from magazines (once I painted a picture of some money and a picture of a screenplay and that was my vision board for awhile and... moving on...) these boards vaguely represent what I think I want my life to look like in the future. Right now, there's some photos of flowers, a picture of dollar bills floating around in the air, a woman with awesome tits, some outfits I like, Paris, the phrase "make today fun", a picture of a soaring eagle with the phrase, "Heart of Lightness", a picture of Cate Blanchett, the English countryside, the word "travel", a picture of some girl looking at the moon, and obviously a horse because that's my spirit animal. Duh. But driving down the road today I realized; 1. That right now I have a weird collage of pictures taped to my kitchen wall that make it appear as if I am living with a lame eighth grader and  2. That I was thinking about my vision board while driving and that maybe inside I still actually AM a lame eighth grader. Ugh. Help me. Here's the thing, I'm dog-sitting right now and staying at a friend's place so I can't go home and furiously scrape the whole thing off my wall dramatically panting and screeching like I want to and start over. So what I'm being forced to do is sit down and really think about what my vision board looks like. (I'm ending a sentence with a preposition, isn't that wrong? I DON'T CARE. WHAT DOES MY VISION BOARD LOOK LIKE?!)

It's been a nutty couple of years. The last entry I posted on this blog was all about learning to "let go." LETTING GO. Doesn't it sound like such a grown-up, woo-woo, I've figured it allllllll out phrase? I really thought I WAS learning to let go and actually letting go and yet, my apartment was messy, I always had laundry to do, I never had enough money to pay my bills and I was feeling guilty all the time about not having a career path figured out and having no one to love and blah blah blah BLAAHHH. Letting go SUCKED. But that's because (I realize now) I wasn't truly grasping the concept.

Cut to: two years later. Here's what actually letting go looks like (PREPOSITION.) It is accepting that while I may not have a career per se, I do currently have a job that affords me the ability to live alone and to take a bath whenever I want. It means doing my laundry every week and not minding it. It means taking care of my home and feeling like it is the sweetest place I've ever seen. It is cooking for myself. It is listening to the news and being informed and feeling horrified because of what I've learned on my own and not because of what I've read on Facebook or been told to think by others. It means understanding the depth of forgiveness and generosity.  It means my friends, old and new, feeling such an enormous amount of love and appreciation for them that it's forced me to understand the biggest notion, "Hey Brittany, you must be a really good person to be surrounded by so many tremendously kind, intelligent people. Good for you. I actually honestly love you."


I mean whatever I have a great therapist and... SHE GETS IT and so do I now. (self-love=yes times a million)

Mostly, letting go for me has been truly releasing myself from guilt. Being comfortable with going along with the flow of life. Reading and watching and writing and relaxing. So yes, if I die tomorrow, I will have had a really good and really relaxing time and probably ten million baths. If I don't, even better because I'm so interested to see where all of this is leading and also I am having a genuinely good time.

But what will I put on my new vision board? Um. I don't know. Maybe I'll go for a drive and think about it some more.  Maybe it will be blank for a second. Or maybe I'll just hang a shelf and always have a bottle of wine and some epsom salts on it. Or maybe I'll just blow up this google search and plaster it to my wall.


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