THE HILARY HENINGER

Today was a wildly good day. The “success” of what I am building and creating on the horizon of my life. We think it’s so complicated   But it’s just boring consistency at the end of the day.  After 40 years of working out you’d think I would have made the connection sooner. And some alignment of course. Maybe a touch of manifestation. My life is going to change and I’m slightly terrified.  Every conversation makes me feel a satisfaction of pursuit no other “work” has offered me. The epitome of my human design. 

Then sitting under the sky my breath catches.  It’s a beautiful world when you step back. Contentment gently hugs you, as you realize incredible success and validation from your work, a reminder that there is so much good in the world. But the finger of grief taps you on the shoulder, just checking in.  

A reminder that after letting go of the future you’ll never have (twice) has left you more tender than you realized.  That in the confidence pond of so many incredible accomplishments a bubble of air rises to the surface. The gentle burst of oxygen igniting a spark of sadness and certainty that you know exactly what matters the most. And you feel the things you miss in a visceral way. On the best of days. 

You were the greatest lessons and the best gift. Yes, my life changed course in the most obvious of ways. A negotiation for everything survival. 

Who knew how much more would be left changed. Forever imprinted upon.  The second future I would never have but didn’t even know existed. 

I sit in a podcast where I try to keep composure while circling the truth of my tenderness.  Talking today on grief and futures and how to do it differently. 

 Recognizing I hid my vulnerability. until you. I always have. So avoidant in trusting the universe with it. Having read so much on vulnerability, deeply familiar with the language, only to understand that it’s a feeling. Your vulnerability in my rear view mirror showing me it’s the only way to real and actualized love. And once you’ve felt it you know what it isn’t.  

Trying to connect in conversation and feeling the dull ache of realizing it’s all surface. Not much feels worse. 

Reflecting on the everyday. Made so much better by the company we keep. It’s not the journey. It’s not the destination. It’s the company along the way.

Errands feel absurdly dull. I watch couples in the store, wondering if I should tell them just how precious it is. The laughter amongst the mundane. Frank the tanks “bed bath and beyond” meets the notebook.  Sentimental Scorpio in full form.

The truth of what I learned is most valuable of all. 

find someone who you can be hilarious with.  A devalued currency that will carry you through the absolute best and worst of times. 

Someone who you think to call when things go right and when they go wrong. Someone who shakes off your worst days and celebrates you on your best.

The one you can talk grief and art and recipes and design and careers and babies with. Even if you don’t do half of it.  Because the best part of a future is talking about it and dreaming it up and the next best part is moving towards it.  But don’t ever lose the vulnerability. Even now that you see how much it took to get there. A safe passage to unconditional love. Something I didn’t realize, until now, is the only kind that matters.  

I had a good day. And so I’m sharing it.