Slow Walker

Life has slowed considerably for me in my post-surgery recovery. My pace is so much slower than I’m used to. BUT—I have been going out the last few days, including a quest to one of my new favorite cafes. That was a jaunt that took two buses and a fair amount of steady, slow walking. It was hard, I didn’t know if I would make it or get too exhausted and have to call someone to pick me up, but I got there and did what I hadn’t done at a cafe for a long time: I wrote. Like the pen-on-paper kind. It was amazing.

I left when I started feeling sore all over again, making my way at a snail’s pace downtown between bus transfers. I realized I normally walk really fast. The goal is to move from point A to point B as swiftly as possible. Why though? Being a slow walker these days is an unexpected benefit. Quitting my day job and being my own boss means going slower and actually liking it. I don’t have to be anywhere at a certain time to work. This is so new and wild to me.

I’ll never be late for the bus, just early for the next one.

An article I wrote about post-op surgery recovery tips is up on the Transguy Supply Blog. Read it here:

The Leap

Undergoing a major surgery, breaking up with my last JOB and accepting a position with people I’m excited to work with is basically what I’ve been doing for the last month. Sitting down and actually tallying up these developments is overwhelming in all the best ways. My first feelings are of awe and thankfulness. I’m honored and grateful to be here, reveling in the freelance life, making steps to solidify my business and marveling at the fact that I’m doing it. I’m really doing it.

I’ve accepted a position at Barista Magazine Online for Social Media Content Director. Barista Magazine has been so great to work with and I’m thrilled to continue growing with them.

Being a week post-op has firmly anchored me in my body during this time of accelerated growth. Going slow (like, snail-slow), taking lots of rest breaks and asking for help is certainly something I’m not used to. As I continue working from home (from the couch, from my bed), I’m reminded over and over that progress doesn’t have to look like my adrenaline-fueled line cook hustle from a previous life. It can be slow but inevitable, like recovery, or the millions of growing and budding spring things outside my window.