Kind of shy...

I wanted to take down my previous post, not because I don't agree with it, because I do, but because it could sound boastful... and to a Midwestern girl, well, that's just not what we do!

We don't talk about ourselves, our gifts, we don't take responsibility for our own growth... no matter how hard we worked to get there... somehow it just magically happens I guess :).

And what if someone is offended by my use of the word God... because they probably are.
And what if someone doesn't understand what I am trying to say... because they probably won't.

And after a deep breath I remembered...

People filter through their own lens, their own experience, they may attach meaning to things where I have assigned none, and may totally miss the meaning I am trying to convey... and for the most part- with a few exceptions- I have resigned myself to that. I have realized that it is so much less about me than I ever realized... no matter how often I start a sentence with I. Whoever reading it is the star and will mold the words and experience to fit their needs. And on a good day, that is actually quite liberating.

So for now I will remind myself:

Showing up, sitting down and writing out what is written on my heart.
There is bravery in showing up.
There is courage in sharing.
There is a lesson in letting go when you allow others to interpret as they will.
There is comfort in the sharing and finding you aren't as alone as you felt like you were...

That is why we try... we show up, we make statements, we take what works, and we leave what doesn't. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't... and for a recovering perfectionist the hardest thing to do is to leave on the table something that is unexplained, that may not be the perfect representation of me, of my abilities.

But that is part of the thrill of writing, of sharing, of showing up... you never know what you will find on the next page.

Diamonds...

Every day I am amazed at the gift I have for finding diamonds in the rough...

I have always been good at in minimal amounts of time pulling out the perfect quote, passing along just the right book, finding a great article that is applicable to a conversation...

it lights me up to be able to share with people what I have found, to let them know how much I value them, how much I appreciate their presence in my life... a quote in and of itself won't do that, but when picked just when ripe, plucked from the vine and given to the right recepient... that can be the work of God, with my hands... a balm to a bruised soul, wings to a broken heart, a rush of peace that all is as it should be...

When I remain open and allow the goodness of life to flow through, it rushes in, wisdom is shared, information is gleaned... and suddenly I am given things to share with others, which always brings me great joy...

But it is truly not me, there is a divine compoenent... I am the net that catches it... but I am grateful for the opportunity to fish.

"When you love someone, you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity - in freedom, in the sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern.

The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping, even. Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now. Relationships must be like islands, one must accept them for what they are here and now, within their limits - islands, surrounded and interrupted by the sea, and continually visited and abandoned by the tides."
— Anne Morrow Lindbergh (Gift from the Sea)