Well I'll be. My blog was so-named when I started sharing the odd thought back in 2018. I wanted a space both to share encouragement to find what works when it comes to wellness, and also to share those moments of joy, inspiration, and perspective that had me going "well, s***." - that make life worth the the tougher stuff.
So might I begin by saying well... I'll be. We're in the latter part of a year I'm sure we rang in a few weeks ago. To be fair, I was on a plane at that time and missed the tick over to 2023 all together. In fact, that was the last time we really spoke. In many ways, I feel like that time zone trick continued to fool me for the next six months. Not that those months were lost on me - not at all. I've had so many moments I have wanted to share with you: wholesome ones, crappy ones, and purely human ones. But perhaps we've all been dealing with a jet lag of sorts. Adjustments have been happening for all of us, and have been especially strange to make amongst all this talk about "getting back to normal" while things change forever.
Nothing much feels "normal" over here, but it definitely feels more Cass. I left my corporate job in February to do more of the things that bring me - and I hope you - meaning (I went to say joy, but chocolate and wine bring me joy. This was bigger). When I made this decision, I was applauded. I walked into my parents' house for dinner that night, and they had cued Mark Knopfler's Going Home at 2:22 (the epic part) to play full volume as they stood, sparkling on the ready, clapping and cheering. I might as well have won a Grammy. I'm tearing up writing it. I tear up every time I think about it. This is a tradition in my family: a rare reception offered only to the most significant achievements in work and life - whether we're planting the flag at the summit, or standing at the bottom of a whole new mountain.
There's nothing quite like having your own cheer squad - especially when you're attempting a new trick. But the reason I get so emotional isn't because of the unwavering support for my passions - which is also huge. It's because of the unwavering support for my wellbeing. Passion is the reason I'll continue to plug away at edits and recordings and yoga sequences and songs and leads, and to champion wellbeing and connection on and off the mat, and the page, and the stage. But it's not the reason I left my job. I left because I was burnt out. My parents were cheering me on for prioritising myself and protecting my health in the way that they want to - in the way that they would. And in the way that I talk about here, and on the mat.
I wrote a song about pursuing passion before I left for France and Canada last year, one which I hope to record soon after I release my debut EP in a few eeks (not a typo). It's the first time I've written what I needed to hear instead of what I wanted to say, and I think it's my favourite original so far. So I've been gigging, teaching yoga in workplaces, studying, and spending time with family... sometimes. At others I've been stressing, crying, chasing invoices, submitting job applications, waiting on hold to Services Australia, and forgetting to come back to my breath. In between, I've been turning my face to the sun (or rain), reconnecting with friends, and shedding tears of gratitude for the support in my life and just how readily people have jumped in to help before I even finished asking the question. Thank you.
I have had my moments - where tension and ease are doing the tango and I begin holding on so as not to lose my footing. Amongst these challenges, I am also acutely aware of my privilege. That I had the option to reject a somewhat stable stream of income, to follow what makes me come alive, is wildly fortunate. Of course, to do so, I still had to break up with my perceptions of stability and security, and consistently invite passion and purpose over for dinner. Doubt and fear are clingers, and meaning is this quiet, loyal friend that is always ready - when we are. Giving it a seat at the table isn't enough. We need to feed it. Whatever shifts you're experiencing, here's your gentle reminder that "back to normal" fails to account for growth. I suggest we move forward. To better.
I've been thinking of you. I just didn't know where to start! So, let's start here: with a deep breath. In.... And out... And a reminder that you are not alone. Here, you have a cheer squad. And if you ever need a moment to acknowledge how far you've come, go ahead and skip to 2:22 - and know that I'm cheering for you.
If you're interested in what's on offer, please don't hesitate to take a look at the website and shop, and shoot your questions my way. Remember to breathe, Cass