“In for four, hold for four, out for four,” the girl at the checkout counter said, not even looking up from the cheekies she was scanning.
It was both comforting and unsettling that someone having a panic attack in line at Victoria’s Secret seemed like just another Tuesday to her.
I don’t know what burnout looks like for other people. For me, it looked like trying to pretend I wasn’t having a heart attack while buying underwear. It meant sobbing uncontrollably when a sparrow collided with the slider and took its dying breath in my hands. It manifested as declining a year’s worth of social invitations because lying convincingly about my great life required more energy than I had.
In those days, if I’d been hit by a bus, my last thought would’ve been what time to post on Instagram for the greatest chance of going viral.
Everything I did to make money took momentous effort. The freedom I had sought going into business for myself was nowhere to be found. I rationalized that staring at a computer screen for 15 hours a day without breaks proved I wasn’t a drain on society.
In my frenzy to make a living I forgot what it meant to live.
Abundance, it turns out, is like Santa Claus.
Santa is real only to those who believe.
It’s also like courage.
If you wait until you feel brave enough, the day will never come. You must do the scary thing—and after you have proven you’re capable of conquering your fears—you develop courage. Abundance works counterintuitively, too.
First, you must have delusions of grandeur.
Then, the grandeur shows up.
For years, I’d been told to live like things were already perfect, like I had enough money, joy and love in this very moment. I’d been instructed to deny my 3D reality when it said gas was $5 a gallon, and I’d made nothing for the month.
The voices in my head had always loudly protested, of course. I had responsibilities to consider! I couldn’t afford to follow intuitive nudges to go to Starbucks and not worry about plan for the future.
I’m open-minded, but that was simply irrational.
Lucky for me, my burnout left me too exhausted to care about “rational” anymore. Or, for that matter, what people would think of me for celebrating small wins (like showering) and taking weekdays off to do watercolor and read books about witches.
My overwhelm-ravaged brain became a breeding ground ripe for delusions. Delusions that I’m already blessed, fantasies that I’ll always be supported. I decided that doing what felt easy and good had to be preferable to doing what felt hard because, after all, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow.
And besides, I didn’t have the energy for hard.
My To-do list changed to include playing with my cat multiple times a day and always stocking bourbon-soaked-cherry-double-chocolate cookie dough in the freezer. I built a bingo board, filled it with as many pleasurable activities as possible, and made it a daily goal to get BINGO.
When you feel good, you magnetize more to feel good about.
I heard this quote on a podcast and took it to heart, meaning I should do only what I wanted, when I wanted.
Almost immediately, existing felt better.
My heart unfurled like a flower.
Opportunities began to appear in random places. Whereas once I had protested to the universe, “Where will all this abundance come from if I’m not actively prospecting for clients, if instead I’m reading by the fire and napping with the cat,” now I began to trust.
Because when I took time out of my day for a mocktail on the veranda, the clients came.
When I spent a Wednesday making a garland from dried orange slices and cinnamon sticks for the Autumn Equinox, offers landed in my inbox.
When I went to pay my bills (because, of course, not everything can be fucked off) there were inexplicable amounts in my bank account.
Just like magic, the delusion became real.
Life can feel heavy at times. We validate the struggle by arguing for our limitations. But the solution lies in something as simple as changing your mind.
Simple doesn’t mean easy. Your mind doesn’t want to be changed; change is scary. It feels safe to “be rational,” even if rational is a big ol’ buzzkill.
My wish for you is that you don’t have to break down in the panty department in order to start being delusional today.
If life isn’t turning out quite like you hoped . . .
If you feel buried under bills, appointments and grown-up responsibilities . . .
If doing what you love feels like an impossible dream . . .
Choose differently.
Decide to blindly trust that the universe is conspiring on your behalf. Trust that slogging through shit you don’t want is helping you get clear on what you do want.
Seek out everything in your environment that you have to be grateful for until it becomes second nature. Make complaining a thing of the past.
Delusionally believe that magic is real. Decide there is nothing pointless or embarrassing about visualizing yourself singing on stage at Red Rocks, hitting the NY Times best-seller list or traveling the world as a digital nomad.
Like Alice says to the Hatter,
“You’re mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”
Not sure where to start? Check out these links:
5 Weird Ways to 4x Your Income
One Powerful Secret to a Life of Personal Freedom
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