“Oh… There You Are.”

 

What Happens When You Return to Yourself

 

I didn’t plan to write today.
But something happened—and I don’t want to lose it.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been in a quiet kind of funk.
Not dramatic. Not rock bottom.
Just… off.

The kind where you stay in your morning walk clothes all day.
Brush your teeth. Maybe comb your hair.
But you don’t really show up.

A couple of weeks ago, my dog Maggy had a severe seizure.

Fifty minutes in, Rich and I made the call to take her to emergency care.
If I’m honest, I didn’t think she was coming home.

He was angry I hadn’t filled her prescription.
He wasn’t wrong.
And I didn’t argue—because no one was more angry with me than I was.

The moment we walked into the clinic, she started seizing again.
They rushed her back.

And I broke.

Because we all know how this works with pets…
We will outlive them.
And it is never long enough.

But then… a couple hours later…

We heard it.

Happy feet.

Our Maggy.

Alive.

We left with new prescriptions and hearts that felt stitched back together.

Today, I tried to fill those prescriptions.

The first pharmacy?
A mess. Insurance confusion. Hundreds of dollars. No resolution.

I walked in looking like I felt—disheveled, worn down, not fully “there.”
And honestly… the experience matched my energy.

So, I left.

And before going to the next place, I paused.

I combed my hair.
Put on a little makeup.
Jeans. Black tee. White sneakers. Denim jacket.

Nothing fancy.

But when I looked in the mirror…

I felt it.

“Oh… there you are.”

And here’s what surprised me:

The world noticed too.

At the pharmacy, the line was long.
Seven people deep.

So, I did something most people don’t do…

I started talking to everyone.

One woman leaned in and asked,
“Do I know you?”

I smiled, “I don’t think so… but we’re friends now.”

When I left, I called back,
“It was nice meeting you, Vicky!”

She laughed.

At Safeway, I had a GoodRX coupon ready.

A young bagger walked toward me.

We made “smile” contact—one of those real, human moments. I see you.

He came right up and gave me the biggest hug.

I don’t know his name.
But I know he lives in a world built with love.

And then…

A man walked out from getting his vaccines.

We locked eyes, both smiling.

I asked, “How are you today?”

He lit up like a little boy and said,
“I just got two shots—one, two!”
and started giggling.

These humans…

The same world.
The same day.
The same errands.

But completely different experiences.

It made me realize something:

It wasn’t the makeup.
It wasn’t the outfit.

It was that I came back.

Even just a little.

From shut down… to open.
From inward… to outward.
From surviving… to connecting.

And the world met me there.

Immediately.

What struck me most wasn’t just the kindness.

It was the energy.

Every single interaction had this…
childlike openness to it.

No pretense.
No posturing.
No trying to be anything other than what we were in that exact moment.

A wink.
A hug.
A giggle about two shots.

Simple.
Real.
Alive.

And it hit me—

That’s what felt so good.

Not the makeup.
Not the outfit.

The childlike part of me came back online.

The part that isn’t guarded.
The part that doesn’t overthink.
The part that meets people like they are already safe.

I think when we’re in a funk…
we don’t just withdraw from others—

we withdraw from that part of ourselves.

The playful part.
The curious part.
The part that connects without effort.

And today…

I didn’t just get dressed.

I returned to her.

If you’ve been in a quiet funk…

If you’ve been hiding a little…

If something heavy has pulled you inward…

Try this:

Not to impress anyone.
Not to perform.

Just to gently return to yourself.

Because when you do…

You might just hear it too—

“Oh… there you are.”

 

If this resonates download What Feels Alive? and if you want to go deeper check out Return to Light Reset