Now what?
Sunday, February 16, 2025.
now what —
Two words I have heard strung together time & time & time again.
As I stared at the blue cellophane on the the set of wireless microphones that have been accompanying me in carryon luggage for nearly a year—all that came to mind was now what.
NOW WHAT.
This time (once again) it landed differently.
This time (not the first time, and probably not the last time) it was like a blast of wind on an ember that’s been stoking for a very long time.
This time (as it always does) it woke something new.
This time (as it has before) it rattled new bones.
This time (though softer) was a deeper remembering.
This time (with a little bit of comedic relief) it wasn’t just a whisper.
This time I felt my grandmother and my great-grandmother, and all of the women before me say, ‘you know what it is, and you know it with unwavering certainty’ (even if the words to articulate it are still being refined).
The refining never ends.
Read that again—the refining never ends.
So, now what?
For ages now, I have been telling myself I’m going to record audio content again. Telling myself I’m going to hit publish again.
The creator in me.
The woman in me.
The lover of sheer beauty in me.
The magician with words in me.
The storyteller in me.
She all cheered me on.
And then there was the human in me.
The human in me with gathered evidence upon gathered evidence and sneaky stories within stories telling me “you’re not there yet”, “that ain’t it.”.
The human in me who let the fearful stories speak louder than the truth.
The human in me who wavered.
The human in me looked at the mics—both with reverence and utter fear every time I took them out.
These fancy little wireless mics, idyllic for the nomad in me, have wandered (within the confines of luggage and never to be properly loved) for approximately 292 days—from Canada to Mexico, to Canada, back to Mexico, back to Canada, to Portugal, and many a coastline along the way.
Now what?
I peeled back the blue cellophane.
I sat up with a tall, integrous spine.
I sipped my tea.
I closed my eyes.
I let myself fully feel a deep inhale and exhale. And I began.
If you stopped and sat with these two words—now what— what comes through?
I know you know.
Consider this the permission slip you don’t actually need to hit publish on whatever that thing is that you’ve been contemplating.
‘you know what it is, and you know it with unwavering certainty’
You know why you came.
Now remember your devotion to it.
