the 26 fever.

barefoot, in the house

The fever slipped in unannounced. One minute I was sleepily drinking coffee and readying myself for Persephone's wedding, the next I was shivering and sweating and generally feeling like falling over.

It was a sneaky thing.

But it knew what it was doing.

I made it through the wedding (alcohol helped quite a bit) and committed myself to the couch with blankets and tissues and tea for the entirety of the day Sunday.


And then on Monday, I turned 26. The fever was still passing through, but I knew what it was about.

It was the 26 fever.

The reminder that 26 will not be 25. That I will not be the same again. That I need to make space and clear the old.


The 26 fever is shaking me.

I'm still uncertain as to what 26 is about. (So far all I've got is the fact that I'm now more towards my late twenties than mid twenties...) But I'm ready for it. I'm ready for all that it has for me. 25 was a really fucking hard year that, while amazing, knocked me down time and time again.

I'm ready for peace in my body.
I'm ready for soul connection.
I'm ready for blazing confidence.
I'm ready for deep, deep love.
I'm ready for slow, deliberate aliveness.
And I'm ready to like my hair again.

The fever is passing. I can just barely see it making its way out the door, almost gone.

I'm ready.