This Saturn Return Business is No Joke Y'all

So I've been dealing with some pretty hefty growing pains over the last few months. It's been interesting how taking responsibility for every aspect of my life is bringing out all sorts of behavior I thought was long behind me-all tried and true coping mechanisms from my party girl past. Building a business is only a part. As I get clearer and clearer of my message, I am forced to get clearer and clearer on what my life is for. Mostly what I'm experiencing is a whole lot of resistance. I see what needs to be done, I map it out, I have a vision; but I can't for the life of me get into action. Can you relate? I'm finally getting my act together, but it took me getting so SICK of myself that I finally couldn't avoid it anymore.

Good thing I can blame it on my Saturn Return. (Click the links, it's some juicy astrological tish, yo).

Back to the growth spurt. My ego is one fucked up asshole sometimes, no lie. It's doing everything it can to distract me from all the actions I know I need to be taking, to forward all the grown up aspects of my life (finances, career, home, relationships-you know, all the things that make you an ADULT, people).

These pains are normal, my mind groks that--I know life is change and growth and when these natural processes stop I'll be dead. As a coping mechanism, I've been trying to think of myself as a butterfly (a caterpillar, really), going through metamorphosis. I know it's a bit dramatic but it helps when I'm hard on myself, or life feels sticky, to remember that some gorgeous stuff is getting cooked up in all this gunk. Especially on the days I feel like I'm doing everything I can to avoid change; the days when everything feels completely insurmountable and I can barely get out of bed. 

As if

Today in my morning pages I got that I am NOT A BUTTERFLY, and not only am I not a butterfly, I don't want to be one! 

I am a snake.

Shedding all the old ways, like a skin; a skin that's grown too tight. It doesn't slip off easily, like a coat or a jacket; it's itchy and unbearable - until - finally, it's all slithered through, the old casing a dusty shell. The head is the last to go. And it's not the last skin to be left behind...

Bring it

Anyway, I feel like I'm just starting to slither out. It's tight and near suffocating sometimes but I have to be patient and allow the new, fresh skin to reveal itself. What kind of snake do I want to be?

All this work, of being human, expanding oneself, committing to having a life of one's dreams: it's not pretty little butterflies. It is a snake shedding its skin. It's tight, dry, and above all, SLOW. It's not particularly glamourous.

More to come.