No one can help me now...

and it's a great f**king thing!

I just did something I swore I would never, ever do.

And it ended up surprising the shit out of me.

I put myself voluntarily in a situation where I had absolutely no control.

I could only speak when spoken to, eat and drink when allowed, and forced to hours of isolation and confinement with no phones, computers or human interaction.

It was also one of the best experiences of my life.

Each day for hours I would look out my window at the lushly curated courtyard sprinkled with wicker furniture and fading ochre tapestries. I’d close my eyes, and imagine the countless people who must of sat there, witnessing endless August afternoons and falling summer stars.

I liked the silence.

Until they called my name. Then everything changed.

The group would be noisy and frantic, and vying for every ounce of space. Some were more quiet than others, or funny, or imposing, with the energy dancing off walls and windows looking for a place to land and rest.

That would be victory.

This went on for days. Every minute, every hour, every sleep would be dominated by learning to be fully present but also prepared to pivot and choose at every juncture. I was not used to that.

Then came the moment when I had to make a choice that would dictate so many things moving forward. It seemed to represent a suspended truth; decades of my life where I had been so immobilized by fear and indecision, and wishing with every fiber of my being, that I could have just broken free.

I scan the room in absolute stillness. My main support, the one I had revealed all to would no longer meet my gaze.

I knew then.

I might be toast.