Every year I push myself to new levels of exhaustion. I don’t recognize it as exhaustion until I’m laying in bed with a 103-degree fever, hallucinating about bloody unicorns and having tea with Gary Busey. But those near-death sicknesses (okay, I’m exaggerating, but it’s sort of like a born-again experience), are like hitting the Reset button on your NES when the levels get too complicated; my body, soul and spirit needed a flush. This happened in 2006 and it happened again. I didn’t get sick, I got fcuked the fcuked up.
2006? I fought a lot of demons. I was the busiest I’ve ever been, being a little Hermione Granger in design school, teaching 2 core design classes and working side-by-side with Rob at The School of the Arts. On top of that, I lost my Lola and my dear Uncle within months of each other. I blindly kept busy, but in the end, fell victim to a nasty sickness. Recovering from that was a wake-up experience, just as the semester was wrapping up.
This year has been pretty nuts too. Great, but nuts. All excuses aside, for whatever reasons that required daily nightcaps, this year (past two years) was just was not kind to my liver. My tolerances for alcohol and coffee is/was insane. But last week’s sickness was part of a process to flush out whatever viruses enveloped me, while ridding me of my toxins and toxic thoughts. I felt like I drank ayahuasca tea with coyotes in the vast deserts of Mexico. I feel flushed.
Just in time for the near year, I feel renewed in body and spirit. I feel ready, for real this time, to embark on the adventures I set out for myself as an independent designer, with my wife, ready to write a new chapter.