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Fifty-two years of travel led me to this exact time and place.

When I start a new journal, I’m usually tempted to do a quick rundown of all the life that has happened up until this new starting point. I had a typical Gen-X childhood, had babies and got married too young (in that order), and spent a large part of my twenties and thirties as a single mother of three children trapped in a life of poverty. I’ve been married and divorced an embarrassing number of times because I thought I needed a man to make me whole and keep me safe -- and will likely not pursue romantic relationships in the future. That’s no longer my priority. 

I’ve been chasing a writing career for decades, and while I’ve had some successes (as in, I actively get paid for it and have plenty of previous credits), it’s a dream I’m still lazily dreaming. Perhaps I'll write a book; perhaps I won't. Who knows? Is it my calling or my obsession? Regardless, I'm right here doing it -- writing, even if it is in an empty space.

Oh, yeah, and I’m a product of genetic trauma and mental challenges, such as bipolar disorder and anxiety disorder, as well as a splash of Autism or ADHD. 

And, as dysfunctional as my life journey has been, it has also been infused with magic, enchantment, and all things mystical and sparkly. I’ve long loved all things magic and otherworldly, hence the nature of my new website, Mystic Muse. I’ve dedicated much of my life to developing that part of my spiritual being, and here I am doing a magical mind mapping of sorts. 

One-two-skip-a-few, now I’m fifty-two.

This time is significant because I’m calling it my conscious quantum leap. I don’t even know if that name makes sense, but I don’t care because it makes sense in Wendiland. The point is, I am here (Nebraska). I want to be there (Kentucky). What magic must I conjure to jump safely from this timeline into that one? It’s more than a spell. It’s a paradigm shift, and it’s not going to happen by accident. My days of living by default in a victim mentality are over. I have to row this boat.

How did this happen? After my last divorce (no, really, my last, I promise!), I moved to Nebraska to be with my son’s family. He and his wife and kids spent four years in Japan in the Air Force, so the only relationship I had with my grandkids was via Facebook Messenger, and they were far too young to appreciate or remember those chats. My son was just getting back to the states as I was being ejected from my make-believe reality, and our timelines met in the middle. 

Now, a ton happened after I arrived in Nebraska that I may retell at a future date, but for the sake of keeping this entry tidy, let’s just say that after I’d nestled comfortably into a new life and a new identity for a year and a half, after I’d bonded with my grandkids in ways I never knew possible, my son told me they were moving back to Kentucky. 

Because I had just re-signed a 13-month lease and my job, although remote, wouldn’t allow me to work from Kentucky, I could not go. Stuck. Left behind. 

And this is significant because, even though I’m Grandma-aged, I’ve never lived alone before. I’ve never been in a city where I didn’t have any family or friends. But here we are. I’ve been put in a time-out by the Universe. I’ve been told to “sit still and think about things for a while.”

My family has been gone for just over a year. I had to sign another lease because I hadn’t found a new job yet and wasn’t prepared to make the leap. I’ve spent this year in deep conversation with myself and the Universe, figuring out where I am, how I got here, what I’m supposed to be doing, and where I’m supposed to be going. This is what I’m calling my conscious quantum leap. It’s a deeply magical, introspective experience, an expansion of the soul, and is very much why I chose this moment of now to launch a new website, start a new blog, and pursue the life I feel I’m meant to be living.

I lost myself in 2008 when I got involved with a man who was ashamed of my spirituality. He told me in no uncertain terms (and I allowed it!) that he was going to dim my light and turn me into someone “this town” would look up to. My brand of magic wasn’t accepted, and I willingly let it go for reasons I cannot explain. But I’m here to reclaim my soul. I’m here to stand my ground and dig in my heels and become the version of me I’ve been trying so hard to become.

I want to keep writing. I have so much to say. But I’m exhausted and I’ve still got one more task to do before I can go to bed. At least I've laid the groundwork and can build from here.