In Between

I haven’t posted anything here in a long time. My life, like this blog ,seems to go in waves.

Today I read an inspiring blog by a friend. She spoke about her life’s journey and how it has brought her to where she is. A brave woman who is listening to her heart and soul.

As well, I am blessed to know other women,whose journeys are inspiring. What inspires me the most is the cord that is common to them and me- the willingness to explore who we are on the inside.

I can tell you, based on my own experiences, going inward to find out who you are and begin to make the changes, requires perseverance and determination.

For me, it also means, not getting stuck in focusing on the lives that others created for themselves.Many times I have concentrated on trying to imprint others’ lives into my own. That did not work well for me.

The theme of my life: I wanted to be someone other than me. Fiction was a way to do that. Reading self-help books based on other people’s lives is a way to take on their lives. Yes, many of them had information to help me on my journey. I thought I had to apply all their information to my own life,  BUT their lives were not and are not mine. Each one of us has our own journey and because we are all different, how we live will be different.

I was mired in not owning my life. I was also scared shitless to change it. I spent most of my life sinking into the quick sand of fear. I am now pulling myself out.

As I focus on my acceptance of all of me and thus, loving all of me, these are my revelations, my truths as I am able to decipher and know them:

So many words and so many voices in my head. None of them my own. I did not know how to listen clearly to my own inner voice. How could I? I had no idea who I was. I only knew myself in terms of those outside me. Afraid to know me, because I probably wasn’t someone who being me, was anyone others could/would or even want to know and like.

So many layers over so many years to get to the real me. And that is enough about me for now.

I will finish with one of my micro stories.

A Manure Pile

Sitting across from each other on top of a manure pile were a little girl and an old woman. They stared at each other. A tear began to fall from the child’s left eye; then one fell from her right eye. Soon a steady stream of tears flowed down her cheeks. Her body began to heave with the sobs that burst forth.

The old one pulled herself onto all fours. Slowly she made her way through the muck, reaching the girl and pulling her close. A tune began to form from deep within the woman’s heart humming its way out between her weathered lips. They sat rocking back and forth.

Gradually the sobbing slowed and stopped; only the humming was heard. Untucking her head from the comforting shoulder, the child peeked out at the lined face so close to hers. A little hand tentatively touched the woman’s face. The old one smiled. The tiny hand traced the edges of the smile. The girl then snuggled back in to the comforting embrace.

Love radiated between them and out around them. Black clouds that had previously filled the sky floated away. A rich blue sky appeared, as the sun shone its warmth and light on all below. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

The manure pile began to transform. Green sprouts appeared; stems of flowers rose from the depths of the rich fertilizer. Buds formed and then opened. Fragrances ticked the noses of the young and the old. They reluctantly released their loving hold, smiling as they took in the scene around them – a colourful garden of delicious herbs and flowering plants.

They helped each other stand. Hand in hand, making their way to the edge of the garden, they stopped for a hug. The child raised her arms. The old woman slowly knelt. They embraced.

Something magical happened. The two became one. A healthy vibrant woman stood, smiled, and stretched out her arms for the pure joy of being. She kept her eyes alert for unicorn sightings, as she walked away from the garden into the surrounding field.

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