The Worst that Could Happen

“Vision without action is merely a dream.

Action without vision just passes the time.

Vision with action can change the world.”

~ Joel A. Travis Barker

 Before I say this, I want to assure you that my intention in sharing the following story is not to solicit pity or worry or fear on your behalf:

I have been homeless before.

*Phew* that wasn’t too bad.

I can’t just gloss over this aspect of my life lightly. It’s real, it’s heavy, it’s itchy, it’s not always pretty, but it’s by far one of the best things that has happened to me.

Fortunately, I wasn’t on the streets the first time it did happen, which was due to things not working out between a roommate and I. I needed to break away at a moment’s notice. When I told you that I didn’t want pity, it was mainly because I chose homelessness the second time around.

Yes, you read that correctly. This lady is the one who prompted me to do it.

…and also John Kurth of the blog, Doug Does Life.

I checked in with him there and found this helpful post on dark nights of the soul.

Enter Eckhart Tolle to save the day with his timely, relevant, yet difficult to digest insights and observations.

He defines the dark night of the soul, something I have experienced and almost fell under again in recent times while I was floating about:

It is a term used to describe what one could call a collapse of a perceived meaning in life…an eruption into your life of a deep sense of meaninglessness.

…Sometimes it’s triggered by some external event, some disaster perhaps, on an external level…The meaning that you had given your life, your activities, your achievements, where you are going, what is considered important, and the meaning that you had given your life for some reason collapses.

…You awaken into something deeper, which is no longer based on concepts in your mind. A deeper sense of purpose or connectedness with a greater life that is not dependent on explanations or anything conceptual any longer. It’s a kind of re-birth. The dark night of the soul is a kind of death that you die.

You know, a part of me did die and it needed to.

I knew that a person like me in an economic system that oppresses and steals “legally”–yeah, I just wasn’t cut out for the corporate America setting where business jargon and marketing plans are about as robotic as they can get.

I wasn’t meant to live in a big fancy house where I paraded all my acquisitions and possessions bought with hard-earned debt financing.

I wasn’t about to sit up on my high, high pedestal and make it my goal to snatch up as many green slips of paper and digital currency that comes out of thin air.

I wasn’t me, but I felt like the world was forcing my hand to conform; and that caused me to push back in the most radical way possible

{Suggested Reading: 7 Encouraging Quotes Every Artist Should Remember}

I was able to see clearer what matters most to me only after liberating myself from several unhealthy living situations; and the list I made is far too long for this blog post alone, but I can tell you that my blog and you (yes, you the reader reading this now) both made my list of priorities.

People are far more valuable. My faith in community underwent restoration and that’s why I’m able to say that with more strength despite the fact that I was in scary, vulnerable situations. I had doors closed in my face, but I also had doors open.

No, scratch that. I had to build some doors, dammit.

All the while, I kept reminding myself that I had made the choice to do what I was doing….yes, even the first time I had left my home: that was also a choice in its own right.

The rest of what ensued after my overnight decision to pack everything I could carry and just leave…it’s a surprisingly dark comedy. (Note: that’s me in the featured picture above, in mid-sentence, joyfully bouncing up and down on an exercise ball in one of the homes I stayed in during that season of home-hunting. I look happy don’t I? Well, I was!)

I was operating on pure faith, determination, little sleep, and I stayed reminding myself of what I was born to do. A part of me still doesn’t know my fullest purpose, but I am sure that my higher self has got me covered.

At the very least, I can tell you that I’m still me, my passions for a greener, more people-conscious and inspired world remain the same.

What’s the worst that can happen when one willingly gives up his or her everything” and pursues a barren path yet a path, nonetheless, that is promised to have an oasis at the end of it?


Hoping that you find the same abundance and inspiration,


P.S. You don’t have to share your dark secrets, but if you want to then email me directly or journal about it. I have compiled a slew of free journaling prompts and resources to help others navigate their own creative paths.

2 thoughts on “The Worst that Could Happen

    • Mikial, your words mean a lot. Yes…courage most definitely, but I think there is a blessing in being vulnerable and honest.

      Same to you too! Enjoy your day with your loved ones. Give your mom(s) a hug too ❤

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