I’ve been thinking a lot about birds lately. 

I had a meeting with the rector at the church I want to join. On the way out, he noted my tattoo. 

“Is that a robin?” 

“Yes,” I said. “I got it before moving to Arizona. Robins migrate if the environment they’re in isn’t right anymore. If they can’t thrive.” (There are other reasons it’s a robin, but that’s the one that was most relevant to the conversation we’d been having).

Later that day, I saw a hummingbird taking shelter on my covered patio during the monsoon rain. Which made me think of my boss, who is European and obsessed with hummingbirds. 

Today, I was reading an article from Becca Syme about “not quitting your day job” –  a triggering phrase for writers. But what she’s actually saying is “You have to establish a secure place of emotional, financial and physical safety from which to do your best creative work.” 

Build a strong nest, so you can fly without fear. 

And I started thinking about my two friends and creative co-conspirators. For a long time, that little conclave was a place of unshakeable emotional safety. It, too, brings up thoughts of birds. 

Lunch at the Bird’s Nest Cafe. Girlfriends’ getaways, one at a place called “Taj Ma Coop” (surrounded by chickens), and one in a gorgeous barn called “Birdsong.” That last one was a goodbye of sorts. A last moment together before I moved a continent away. 

I have spent the past three years building a nest. Making a home where I felt emotionally safe. Some of that was literally making my home comfortable. Some of it was finding new friends for new contexts. Or finding new footing in old relationships that had to change. Looking for communities where I felt welcome, not “tolerated.” Moving from being the fun weirdo at the most normie workplace imaginable to being a fun weirdo among … a whole organization of fun weirdos. 

I’ve been kicking my own ass for not finishing or producing much creative work of my own these past few years. But I’ve been migrating, y’all. 

And what people don’t realize is that none of this stuff is one step and done. Each one is a whole back-and-forth dance. Often interrupted by failure, missteps, and experiments with totally uncertain outcomes. Or traumatic events completely out of my control.

I tried wheel-thrown pottery only to learn I hate doing wheel-thrown pottery, y’all. HATE. IT. It looks so fun and sexy in Ghost. Turns out it’s a sensory nightmare IRL. (At least for me. Follow your joy, friend.) 

But this morning, I took a look around. And… I think I did it? I mean, no place is fully insulated from the chaos of life, especially right now. But the life I’ve built? It feels complete. It feels steady and supportive, but flexible enough to bounce when I launch myself into some new thing – as opposed to breaking or falling apart. 

And yeah, there’s some detritus to clear out. Like the sawdust, loose screws, and random pieces of 2×4 left after a major remodel. And yeah, I’m dealing with those things. It’s a nest, not an Architectural Digest spread. 

Nobody can live in those things, anyway.

But also, I’m having ideas again. Story ideas, podcast ideas, weird random project ideas. After a few years of terrifying hollow emptiness where my muse’s garden once was – fragile, tender little shoots are sprouting. Some will be weeds I’ll have to pull so the best ones can thrive. Which is hard, but work I’m better equipped for now that I understand my ADHD a little better.

And if you’re struggling right now, maybe you’re where I was a year, or three, ago. And I’m so sorry, sweetie. It’s a hard place to be. Feeling the wind get colder, knowing you can’t stay where you are, and not knowing when you’ll feel okay again. Or being stuck in between the comfortable past you had to leave, and the future you’re dreaming into existence. Practicing patience not as some moral fiber supplement, but because there’s literally no alternative. Gross. If you’re thinking “this sucks” you are 100% correct.

Consider this a message from your future self. Keep moving. Don’t give up. 

I don’t know how to land the plane of this… Article? Blog? Essay? Letter to my past self? That’s always been my biggest weakness. I’m amazing at takeoffs. I can leap into the sky on a wing and a prayer like nobody’s business. 

Perfect 3-point landings, not so much. I’ve never really been able to master that part.

But that’s okay. I have a safe place to crash.