“I just don’t want to see you lose your shine” he said over a shared plate of chicken curry.

And he would know a thing or two about my shine…he’s seen my shiniest days as the lead singer/magic-maker/co-creator of my band. He saw me hit the rockstar pose every night. He saw a line of people wanting me to sign their cd’s. He saw me woo management and labels and become besties with the biggest rockstars on the planet and not bat an eye when we opened up for Bon Jovi. He saw me come alive on stage and then he saw me stand on my own stage once the band ended and I created the Wildheart Revolution, traveling around the globe while creating my business from the beach and from an RV letting the wind take me wherever I wanted to go with freedom, wildness and heart.

And so when he told me that, I knew he was seeing something that had been there for awhile…the sun setting more and more each year. It was true.

“Believe me brother…I don’t want to lose it either.” I thought to myself.

It has been about five years since that sun was at its brightest with a thriving business, living in my dream city, just coming off of two years of my dream travels, having already reached every goal I had set for myself, and plans for so much more. I felt like I had the whole world at my fingertips and my best life ahead of me, truly. I felt accomplished, beautiful, creative, healthy and happy.

Five years since that and as I sit here today, I wonder “is my best life behind me?” Just saying that out loud pings my heart with a feeling of loss and grief.

Loss and grief.

Emotions that I have felt a lot in these last five years, and also emotions that have contributed to me giving up writing about my life, beginning the process of my sun setting.

Writing has always been a way for me to express myself and feel connected to other people. A much easier way than conversation or art or even music. Feelings and experiences right there on the page. Never quite knowing if someone even reads it. Feeling delighted when they do and they say “thank you for writing that…I don’t feel so alone now.”

But about five years ago I stopped writing and sharing, mostly because overall, I didn’t want the life I had anymore, Things changed. Traumatic things happened that I didn’t know how to deal with and definitely couldn’t share about. Scary things. Things that involved lawyers and hyperventilating in a bathroom. Things that felt too hard to hold on my own, and so I gave it all up.

And in that time I moved to another state to be with someone and it didn’t work out in a really big way, I had to fall completely apart not knowing if the pieces would ever come together again, I got (and still have) a huge flare up in my chronic illness that completely debilitates my life and prevents me from doing the things that I feel like make me “ME,” I dated, got into another relationship, got dumped, felt embarrassed and defeated and still haven’t had that “comeback” I’ve been waiting for so I could show you all how I did it. I’m en route to my Rocky-style victory. I hope.

So…I didn’t write.

And I realized, sitting across the table at Indian food with the person who has become my mirror, that part of my sun, is in sharing truth. It always has been. It’s in sharing those shameful moments, those embarrassing experiences, those “I know we all do this but no one talks about it” bad habits that makes us not feel so alone. It’s also in sharing the victories and the triumphs and the ways we are strong and how we pick ourselves back up. And that is valuable. It is what the Wildheart Revolution is all about…being truthful about who you are and what you want and having the courage to say it.

That is why we love the songs we love or like the art we do…they speak to something we’re feeling and can’t say ourselves. And I’ve been missing being a guest at that party. Even if I’m coming to the party now a little more shy, a lot more road-weary, and a little more wounded.

So I have vowed to myself to share more stories this year. For me but also for you in case you’ve been feeling what I’ve been feeling in life…sometimes absolutely heartbroken, or just broken, and sometimes ecstatic and joy-filled. Sometimes “don’t wanna get out of bed” and sometimes “dance in the car.” As Brene Brown says…

“When we hear someone else sing about the jagged edges of heartache or the unspeakable nature of grief, we immediately know we’re not the only ones in pain. The transformative power of art is in this sharing. Without connection or collective engagement, what we hear is simply a caged song of sorrow and despair, we find no liberation in it. It’s the sharing of art that whispers…‘You’re not alone.’”

So consider this your whisper.

You’re not alone in your pain, your grief, your strength, your joy, your love, your shame, your vulnerability, and your striving to be better.

You’re not alone in your prayers, your hope, your faith, your fear, your hopelessness, your triumph and your doubts.

I am so thankful that you’re here.

I am so excited for my first share, next week. It involves warm breath on my neck, late at night. Stay tuned.

Did this resonate with you? Have you felt less shiny too? Have you been afraid to share yourself? If so, leave a comment below. Like Brene Brown said, it’s in our sharing that releases us.

And of course, if you liked this, please feel free to share.

Here comes the Sun,

Sally

P.s. Click here to see my curry comrade and I play a super pretty duet.