From the second floor balcony of the apartment where I’m staying I can see just above the roofs of all the houses in the area. Yesterday as I was driving I thought this is the cleanest neighborhood I’ve ever lived in. It has this pristine, 1950s, small town feel to it. On the corner of the main road and my street there is a small playhouse, a little snack shack type place, and a Bob’s Big Boy where people bring their vintage cars a few times a week and hang out. It is the Bob’s Big Boy where David Lynch drank a chocolate shake everyday at the same time for years.

It gets really quiet here at night but not in a creepy kind of way. I live four blocks away from two huge movie studios with sound stages, back lots that look like New York and the wild west, and warehouses chuck-full of cameras, costumes, lights, and props. A little further east is Griffith Park. I love that dichotomy. LA is nothing if not the constant clash of concrete and nature. Coyotes, deer, bobcats and foxes live in Griffith park. There is also a zoo with gorillas, tigers, and elephants only a few miles from my apartment.

Today I spent the whole day writing and reading in the kitchen and I feel great. When I don’t feel restless, and I fill up my day with things that feed me I feel really grounded. It is a feeling that I worry about loosing if I move to New York or when I’m in a relationship again. I think about this a lot. How can I find a balance between the space of being single and the one in union. Can one stay singular and yet be plural? This is also one of my biggest fears about having a child.

One thing I’ve noticed in a non-planning planning sort of way is that there are several things that have to happen every single day, like having caffeine in the morning, to make me feel at peace. If everyday includes some reading, some writing, some sort of movement like dance class or hiking and some meditation, even if it is a five minute meditation, I will have a fulfilling day no matter what. The rest is icing on the cake because I’ve taken care of myself. I used to feel guilty about the time I spent reading on my couch during the day but now I realize that it’s not like I’m laying on my back eating bonbons I’m actually actively contributing to my creativity. And in doing so I’m no longer at the whim of my creative spirit but rather courting it daily.

I have never in my life really worried about finding love. I know that when the time is right I will fall in love again. I may get antsy about meeting someone but I never doubt I will. It has always been that way. On the other hand I have always panicked about finding a true calling. I worry that I will never be fully realized in that department. Above anything else that is what led me to write this blog. The hope that somehow it would help me discover that confidence, that trust in my ability to create a satisfying, sustainable career for myself.

I woke up this morning with the fear that I wont be able to pounding in my heart. It is still with me as I write. I hate that anxiety keeps me from trusting that life will fall into place. During the first months of disintegration with Leo, when the conversations where heart-wrenching but still full of hope, when we both would say that we wanted to make it work but sank deeper into the abyss, when I didn’t on the surface know for sure that we would breakup, but a whisper, almost inaudible but constant and unavoidable knew, I would call my mom sobbing out of despair with a mix of confusion over the breakup and confusion over my life in general. I had attached so much of my future success to Leo. I had imagined us always collaborating. I’d smacked my forehead against that fantasy so hard I was spinning. My identity felt so linked to who we were as a couple. My mom from a different time zone and with an ocean between us often said, “it is not about where you end up but how you get there. The trick is to find joy in the process.” Well, she didn’t say it quite like that. She said it in Spanish and I was so distraught at the time I only remember the gist of it.

Today I am as far away from rock-bottom as I’ve been in the past year and anxious or not I’m excited about my life. I just can’t forget that it is a process and that I have to show up everyday in ways that encourage me to be more present and inspired. It may no longer be rock bottom but I’m still crossing a threshold. And for the first time ever, after much search and much disappointment, I am willing to really entertain the idea that if I do the work necessary, if I create a daily ritual that strengthens me then the right things for me will come along when they are meant to be.