Some days I want to scream into the void. Other days I notice it and just let it be.

I keep coming back to this blurry but persistent vision of a life that feels like mine—one built on beauty, clarity, integrity, expansion, fun and abundance. Right now, that means coaching, consulting, writing, speaking, publishing. (Maybe even a book. Maybe many.) It doesn't look like grinding myself into dust, or constantly selling. It also doesn’t look like a regular 9–5, which I’ve never really enjoyed or been motivated by (days I feel most productive in an exhilarating way are when I am engaged in solid 3 - 4 hours of work, after that I am done).

Friends and colleagues with full-time jobs tell me they feel stuck. Boxed in. They're good at what they do, but they’re tired of being told when and how to work. Friends and colleagues who are self-employed worry constantly—about health insurance, about finding the next client, about how / when to rest. I want freedom, but I also want to feel safe. And I’m stubborn enough to believe I can have both, even if I haven’t quite figured out how (maybe this stubbornness is actually my downfall?)

I have planted so many seeds. Through, prayers. networking conversations, job applications, countless manifestations, moon rituals, visualizations, charging my crystals, and writing out a plan of action. Sometimes I forget what I even planted. Sometimes I check for growth too soon and get discouraged when there’s no sign of life. But still—I keep planting. I keep dreaming about the version of me who looks back on these days and says: “Always trust yourself, first and foremost. Because you were right to pay attention to that tiny voice in those quiet moments - not flashy, but important enough for you to notice.”

I'll be honest, it’s shaky some days. And some days it feels cosmic, like something bigger than me, bigger than I can see is quietly holding the vision for me when I can’t. The truth is: I haven't monetized this dream yet. But does that make it any less real? I don't know.

And yes, I am scared.

Scared that maybe this whole vision is just wishful thinking. That I’m delusional. That I’ve mistaken persistence for purpose. That I’ll keep whispering into the void and to what end? But I’m still here. I don't know why, but I'm still here risking the beautiful chance that it’s not a bunch of BS.

If any of this speaks to you, I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment, send a message, forward this to someone who might get it. Let’s stop screaming alone into the void—and maybe start creating something real in it.