My heart has broken more in 2020 than I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.

For: friends, clients, people I’ve never met, Mother Earth, California, the United States and me.

I let go of everything left to release this year. It’s interesting because I felt like I’d already let go of all the major shit that needed to be shed, but this year has taken me deeper than I knew.

I recently sold the dream house I shared with my ex. Letting it go was excruciatingly painful.

A totally loved, beautifully remodeled, geodesic dome on 6 acres in the middle of a redwood forest with a creek running through it.

We were the caretakers of this incredible spot for seven years.

I haven’t lived there for three years, but it was my safety net. It was my back up plan.

I wasn’t ready to let it go.

I fought it.
I cried.
I listened to loads of Ray LaMontagne on repeat.
I almost backed out (more than once).
I talked about it with people I trust.
I watched myself squirm in the attachment.

I didn’t want to release – which has come up a lot for me in the past few months.

It’s like a whisper in the background, “Kelli, release. It’s ok.”

But it didn’t feel ok. My mind kept saying, it’s wrong. Totally wrong.

But in my heart, I knew it was right. It was required if I was going to move forward.

If I wanted to allow what’s next.

And so I followed my heart, even though I was afraid. I let go of the safety net, again. I released my hold.

I know that every time I’ve trusted what I can’t yet see, I’ve never regretted it.

When I stop holding onto what’s behind me, I allow life to unfold.
I call in the new.
I grow.
I expand.
I learn.
I surprise the hell out of myself.

And that’s where I want to live. In the expansion and flow. In the now.