My last hour of being 33… + THE POWER OF LOSING YOURSELF

I lay here in bed. Finding the right pic for this piece I can feel writing it self before I know what’s going to be written. Husband is snoring next to me and my eyes are welling up in tears as I say goodbye to my year of being 33 and welcome the next decade with open arms and heart.

I just was reading before and had this urge to write this. Document this. Share this. Tell this.

33 the age. The number. The year.

Has been one of the most special in my life. Coming close to the year I was 22.

Seems that double-digit numbers have a magical effect on me and my life.

This year = travelling around Australia. Selling and donating practically everything I and we own. Hitting more than a metaphorical refresh on our lives, we shook the shit out of it.

In search. In pursuit. In a quest to shake shit up and see what sticks.

What’s really important in life when you strip away everything from a human being and all that’s left is her big dreams and loves?

What you get is me here. Sitting at the end of the most enriching, epic year of my life.

In the year of 33.

I became a roadschooling mum. Truly location free. Full on minimalist. And full time caravanning travelling family.

But this isn’t a story to just recap on the accomplishments I’ve crossed off this year.

Hang on… I’m getting carried away with the story here. Let me circle back to reflecting on this being the final hour of being 33.

Shit every time I say that I tear up. Not in sadness.

But in pride.
In love.
In spirit.
In magic.

Because I remember the year I was 22…

That was the year I decided to stop being a lazy high school drop out and teenage mum and I would change the fucking trajectory of my life.

My year of being 22 was the year I shook shit up. Quit my JOB, pregnant with Amali and signed up for a university degree (and by default had to figure out how to start from scratch businesses so I could fund this shake up). I haven’t work a JOB since. I know what I wanted and I figured it out. I followed my nose and figured it out. Every damn day for a decade. So don’t you dare come to me after trying something for a month and expect me to sympathise with you. Don’t fuck around with dreams. Do you have it or want it or not?

Simple one-word answer question.

Yes or No.

The year of 22 reminds me so much of this year of 33.

Kind of like a link or an interlude or a hinge or a doorway. Yep a doorway to the next decade of BIG dreaming.

Knowing what I know now, I can see how this decade proceeded by my shake-shit-up year of being 33.

So what did I learn from completely stripping my life down to the bare essentials. Love and love.

Loves and doing what you love!

I realised that the important things in life are having a big dream and having the guts to go all in after it with the ones you love.

Ahhhh now I remember …

LOSING YOURSELF TO FIND YOURSELF

So a few years ago I remember journaling over and over again in steam bath meditating and putting myself through my own intensive therapy to get to the bottom of a belief that had held me back from my full potential, like the unbridled, unlimited pocket rocket energy source I know I am… my whole life.

I’d been digging for about 6 months. I’m dedicated I know. The beleif was on the tip of my tongue but I could ever quite find it. And one day it hit me.

All of a sudden black spots from childhood became deeply vivid and I realised the belief that was at the centre of every single effort.

Every time is dropped out.
Every time I’d almost made t but didn’t.
Every time I’d get an A For effort F for achievement.

The belief:

SUCCESS = LOSE YOURSELF!
SUCESS = SACRIFICE YOUR SOUL & SANITY.

For you they may be just words… but for me in that moment it opened up a doorway I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to be in.

I fell to the ground in sobs. As black spots became vivid memories and how I realised how I’d cultivated that belief.

The thought of LOSING MYSELF & SACRIFICING MY SOUL & SANITY for success… it brought me to my knees. No wonder I’d never let myself get fully ALL in… there.

And I sit here now…

Smiling with enrichment for the last 12 months of PURE BIG DREAMS creation, that happened only because of finding this black spot belief.

And I sit here. An hour before the clock ticks over and I’m no longer 33.

I sit here on the back of a week where I received one of the most magical moments with myself and belief and this whole big dreams thing.

LOSING YOURSELF.

This week I felt the urge to watch 8 Mile, the hip hop movie. Fair enough. Great, deep and dark movie.

The story of a man, with a dream, to express himself and say things no one was brace enough to say.

As I sat there listening to the words of the theme song. The words that only become clear in the end.

YOU BETTER LOSE YOURSELF.

And I felt this peace wash over me and these tears fill me up. As I finally came to peace with the missing piece I’ve been avoiding all along.

LOSE YOURSELF.

What if you just stopped running from the fear of losing yourself. What if you stopped running from the fear

LOSE YOURSELF IN YOUR LOVE.

Lose yourself in your work.

Lose yourself in your loves.

Lose yourself and all prior assumptions you had about what you can or can not do.

What if you stop resisting the very thing you fear?

What if you LOSE YOURSELF.

What if the whole point is to LOSE YOURSELF IN THE LOVE.

What if the one thing you feared most of LOSING YOURSELF, was the one hing that leads you to your love.

What if you now longer need to be scared.

What if you finally after all these years…
HOLDING BACK.

LIMITING YOURSELF.

pulling on your own reins.

Cause… you don’t want to LOSE YOURSELF.

What if it’s ok for SUCCESS to mean LOSING YOURSELF AND HARD WORK AND SACRIFICE.

What if that’s more than ok, what if that’s the whole fucking point?

YOU BETTER LOSE YOURSELF.

You better LOSE YOURSELF…

MY BIGGEST FEAR BECAME MY BIGGEST EPIPHANY.

That I now get to get lost and found all at once.

The year of 33 was all about getting LOST to be found.

THE YEAR OF 33 I LOST MYSELF TO FIND MYSELF & REALISED I WANTED TO BE LOST AGAIN. FOREVER AND EVER. LOST IN THE LOVE OF DOING WHAT I LOVE FOR AND WITH THE ONES I LOVE… INCLUDING YOU.

So go LOSE YOURSELF. It’s going to be ok.

Happy birthday me!

FUCK IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE FREE OF THE BIGGEST FEAR. No better gift than that…

LOOK OUT WORLD have you sensed #HypoJana coming at ya…

Ohhh and yep hubs is still snoring and I still have tears and smiles and this full enriched feeling that one gets when they shake the shit out of their life and sees what sticks (apparently a snoring husband and a business that is based on 100% love of what I do and love of you and your big dreams, and a tight-knit family unit that is stronger, sunnier and shines… all because we consciously got LOST. Lost all notions of who we were and became who we are!

Love Jana xx

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