52 Days of Celibacy:)

What happened

It was Friday afternoon. I had just gotten back from yoga and made breakfast. Dry oats and berries with heavy cream. I always take the drizzle of honey too far.

I opened my email to the invitation a minute past 1:00 and clicked the meeting link. A window opened.

My fears puddled out in the space between us before I had a chance to cup them back in:

“I’m worried I’m narrowing my market too much. If I’m only about sobriety, if I’m only speaking to sober women, will there be enough places for me to go?” (For the past 3 months, I’ve been trying to figure out exactly who my audience is. What I do. Why I do it. And what makes me the right person for the job.)

“I’m going to stop you right there," he says.

“You have no idea how high the demand or vast the landscape is for female speakers in the sobriety sphere. The possibilities are endless. That’s just you imposing limits that aren’t really there.”

I trust him. He’s been in the mental health leadership industry for a long time. He runs a highly successful nonprofit that promotes nature and the outdoors for healing. That’s how he found me. For once, the Instagram algorithm did its job.

I’m relieved to hear him respond so confidently. I ask him to share the main points of his keynote so I can take notes and ask questions. He’s been giving his talks for a long time. He’s the reason why I’m taking my business in this new direction. And I am grateful for our serendipitous connection right when I needed it. The day after I signed my Celibacy Vow contract, in fact. If you’re one for reading signs.

He begins, and I’m locked in.

His stories make me laugh and make me cry. He tells the juiciest parts and leaves out the rest to drive his point home. This is a skill I hope to incorporate soon, too. Maybe next week in Nashville at the speaker BootCamp. He’s an old pro. And I notice something I hadn’t before. Maybe a twinkle in his eye. Maybe an invisible recognition of passion for the mission. Of stopping at nothing to see it through.

And I wonder whether this is cheating. Or if it’s real life.

The last story he tells is about a rattlesnake he met on a mountain. After begging the skies to deliver him from the ache of his million-mile trek.

He asks if I know the spiritual symbolism of snakes. I don’t answer. Just roll up my sleeve to reveal the faded cuff coiled around my upper arm.

We laugh across seven states. And come back to the window. Just in time to catch a rosy blush. Right before it fades.

Stay tuned for what comes next.

I will, too.