I considered many Es for this post, enoughness, essentialism, and enthusiasm, among others. Fortunately, there’s one last E at the end of this open-hearted series. In a sea of transitions, I’ve pondered many questions, opening my heart and home to new possibilities. Such a process of intentional asking and opening my heart to the universe has led to expedited change (hey, another E!). Those questions?
Question 1 for open-hearted living: Is this relatively easy?
For example, editing comes rather easily for me. I believe writing and editing are separate tasks/tools and therefore different skills. Yet perhaps I’ve honed editing skills through my practice of daily writing. My ego (ah, another E!) tells me I’m good at both.
My esteem (I’ll stop calling the Es out, now) tells me to consider others. What do my friends, fellows, and family need? How can I contribute? And even though I’m good at something, like editing, doesn’t mean it’s always needed.
And that leads to another question…
Question 2 for open-hearted living: How are energy levels?
If I’m constantly editing (myself or others), am I really fueling energy? Filling up my cup or just refilling another’s?
Am I editing… instead of writing?
Am I editing… instead of paying attention to what is?
Having a vision for my life is essential, but as I wrote at the beginning of this post, sometimes life moves quickly. I’m not saying too quickly, just unexpectedly so.
For example, over the last month, I’ve graduated from my master’s program, my partner has moved in, I’ve transitioned out of some jobs, just pitched for another one, and bought a new car. Yep.
I’ve learned my speed sometimes gets in the way. Quick wit sometimes blocks nuanced conversation. That my (talking, running, or whatever) pace is fine, but sometimes I need my own company. Even in an incredible home of now 5 gracious, good people, I occasionally need to recharge by myself.
So, checking energy is how I open my heart and make space, all while still being me.
I enjoy my own company and know my values. But making that space is essential to continue embodying them. Because life ticks on.
For the first time in my life, I bought a new car. A 2025 Chevy Equinox. All electric. This was all part of my 10-year plan, not necessarily my 2025 one. I’ve gone green in so many other aspects of my life, why not this one?
My old car, that blessed ol’ 2012 Chevy Cruise, went from 80 degrees to over 100, in a matter of minutes. Let’s just say the engine was having a tantrum, too. And the bumper? Now named Bumpernickle, to laugh at its near-escape on one too many occasions.
So, thanks to the overheating and CO’s rebate, I bought one within 24 hours of test-drive. I don’t usually make decisions this quickly. But when external and internal decisions align? I had to go for it.
And the learning continues: Sometimes, filling up on juice (aka gaining energy by recharging!) is free. Other times, it’s based off peak or non-peak hours.
So, I return to that first question, was this whirlwind month relatively easy? Yes. Because I am open-hearted to change, and so is my home.
Will things like working on my car get easier? Probably, the more I learn about different times and stations, the more I know when it’s easiest for me to spend the hour gaining energy once more. Furthermore, the absence of some things are fantastic, too. No emissions test. No gas smell (sorry, Mom, not my thing).
We can’t always escape the hard things. Life shifts, not unlike my run: In the span of an hour, the weather shifted from 90 degrees, to wind at my back, to nearly raining. Or getting a car what seemed too early, then having the courage to split bills.
But by asking these questions, like where is my energy, I am beginning to take life’s changes as challenges. Not as sometimes worth winning or losing, earning or denying.
And that gives me energy.