As the weather warms in the northern hemisphere, people start to follow the examples of the animals in spring. All around me, I witness more of my fellow humans enjoying the outdoors, going to concerts, dancing, and dating. I too, have started to embrace somewhat of a winter thaw.
My hibernation of sorts began with COVID. Although I found ways to expand here and there, just as I started to get back to performing and applied for a third job, someone who found me online started harassing and then stalking me in person, and I climbed back into my shell once more. I’ve had to hide my location and keep constant vigilance and care about posting or promoting myself, even as an artist and a coach.
Despite that, I’ve continued to date, started a whole new job a year ago, and have embraced the chance to go out on my own or with crew members when visiting new cities. Still, within my own home, I’ve spent little time going out even with friends, and I haven’t gone to events by myself in ages. Until now.
Last week, I went to a new space and brought a guest, and we had an incredible time. During the evening, I met another woman who’d recently suffered a situation with a stalker. We shared experiences, commiserated, and helped each other feel sane and less alone. My guest compassionately listened and expressed his sympathy as a man that both of us had experienced such trauma. I felt heard and understood, because I took the risk of going out.
Tonight, I went out again. This time, I intentionally went alone, as I have enjoyed countless times in my adult life. My favorite activity? Spending present time with present people. Meeting strangers most often facilitates curiosity and presence, and I thrive on sharing and listening to stories.
I loved it. Not just the intimate and musical oud-accompanied Shibari performance, or the space, or the beautiful curated lighting and thought-provoking conversation prompts. Meeting like-minded people and hearing different perspectives filled my cup.
Even more than that, I challenged myself to go back out and be vulnerable in a crowd of strangers, alone at home, for the first time. I stepped back into that activity that makes me feel most alive. Unsurprisingly, I feel awake and inspired to write, just like I used to for so many years.
I don’t know what the future holds. In my mind, I carry some goals and guesses, but nothing purely certain. What I do know is that stepping back into the world of meeting people and vulnerably experiencing existence gives me a powerful taste of my best life. One day at a time.
Skydiving for Pearls 