Relentless Living

We have been organizing thought around this concept of untie your lines for over two years. It started with the concept of “Relentless” – as in, the relentless pursuit of one’s ideals. I had looked up the meaning of the word:

“showing or promising no abatement of severity, intensity, strength, or pace : UNRELENTING”

And I wanted to live that – live in a manner that showed no abatement of intensity. I grew up the daughter of a southern Baptist minister, living someone else’s ideals. I grew up fast and got partnered young; first baby at 25, second at 28, and entangled with someone who couldn’t love me. I found myself enmeshed in the appearances of those around me, struggling to uphold the fabric of everyone else’s lives, and I was somewhere lost in the threads.

But slowly, after decades of being a supporting character, I started to wake up to my own individuality. I woke up to my own potential. I realized that there was a bigger world beyond the fabric that I was holding together for everyone else. There was a tapestry for me to weave on my own and I was suddenly energized and alive thinking about my own potential. I was dogged in my motivation to live relentlessly.

I left my marriage. I made a drastic job change. I was brimming over with all that laid ahead and I held myself up to the sun, arms outstretched, bright energy pulsing through my very existence, ready for the universe to thunder my true purpose to the world and ready for the parade to rush in.

But that didn’t happen. I struggled through the first months of independence. I didn’t settle easily into my new job. I got beaten down by a judicial system that frowns on justice for mothers. And while I was relentlessly pursuing independence, it was not the version of soaring eagle I had envisioned. It was brutal, and I had to fight.

It’s been two years, almost to the day. And I realize now that untying your lines doesn’t come with fanfare. No one throws you a party. If anything, the people around you tire quickly of your quest and are eager for you to portray some version of normalcy. Untying your lines is the simple act of moving away from land into uncharted waters. And if its your first time unhinged from land, it’s messy as shit.

Fun fact: I’ve just recently started learning how to sail (yes, a boat). I grew up in Florida and I probably should have been on a sail boat before this. I don’t even know how to water ski, despite my high school friends patiently dragging me through the water summer after summer, thinking that eventually I would figure out how to pull myself up. Little did they know, but I honestly didn’t want to be seen above the water in my bathing suit. Water skiing is like the jiggle parade of summer sports and I honestly can’t understand why anyone wants to do that recreationally. Anywho, sailing (like water skiing) simply isn’t intuitive. You have to learn the lines (fancy word for ropes), learn the wind, learn basic navigation. Sure, there is the promise of adventure and freedom, but you still have to learn how to navigate. And it’s hard if it’s your first time. Nothing about it seems to come naturally, and you really need someone you trust to instruct you in the basics. Otherwise, you would never even make it off the dock.

This has been my experience with pursuing my purpose. I took a big leap, but then I needed to humble myself and realize that I had released myself from land into a sea of unknowns. I had to grasp for the loving hands of those around me who could guide me and mentor me through the unforgiving waters of independence. It’s beautiful and it’s also overwhelming.

So today, it’s been two years of independence, and I have some true perspective. I have sacrificed, I have fought, I have grieved, I have overcome my own limiting beliefs, I have done things I didn’t think possible. I have untied my lines, and I realize that it’s not one epic untying, but a series of decisions that continues me on a journey of independent self-discovery. I have to be relentless. And the goal is not the fanfare or the parade, but it’s each and every step along the way. I will drift into port without notice, effortlessly docking in some unknown town that no one’s heard of. And raise a glass to myself because that’s all I need.