Day 50, then...
Day Fifty … in a 100-day brevity-blog challenge. Seems like a good time to pause, check in, take stock of what I’m learning along this unexpected journey. A deep bow of gratitude to those who receive these words each day, listening alongside me as way opens for you to do so. You’re definitely part of the gifts for me, and yet there is a psychological freedom for me too. You’re an eclectic bunch, so there’s no sense of ‘writing for your ears’ here. Being a classic ‘helper’ with establishment-honed gifts, I can lose sense of my own desires for me in a heartbeat.
I’m a bit stunned at how this simple ‘container’ has reopened and soothed my love of writing for writing’s sake. Not for a professional aim. Not to build community with women. Just 500 words of what is rising for me, in the moment, or in an arc of memories… There’s very little functionality to anything I write here, at least in the forward-living direction. I can imagine looking back over these days of a post-a-day, finding seeds of things planted that I may pursue when 2023 rolls around, a sabbatical aimed at a book immersed in the mysteries of the rosary. But I’m intentionally not-thinking about that, except when it rises, like now.
The practice is bringing my attentions to my own emotional weather too, which is healthy for me. When something snags me inside—i.e. happiness for unhappy people—I sit with it, welcome the feelings, get curious about roots and blossoms/weeds. I was delighted when I returned to my community of practice in which that matter had arisen, feeling completely free of the trigger. Bemused about it even. Recognizing that while I strive to be compassionate and presume goodwill with all, I don’t need to be abused by those who are rude to me. It’s satisfying to set a boundary of self-protection amidst such behavior.
A dear spirit-friend has asked really good questions about what is healing in me…are there ancestral voices that are finding voice and even healing for them in me…?. I love these invitations to consider my world more broadly…because there are energetic streams that seem to come into my own cells while surprising me, shaping my heart to see, write, love anew. My dissertation advisor, Jim Loder, for instance. He and I had such a strong energetic bond, with uncanny, Spirit-filled curiosity(ies) between us. I sometimes wonder if he’s smiling a bit through all this…
The largest healing change for me, however, is having crafted the web-site and trusting/valuing it enough to write from it as a platform. It may not seem a big deal to many of us, but for a woman who has learned to thrive within streams of established communities…to decide her own space is where she best fits, speaks, shares…? Regardless if anyone finds her there or not?
I’m not the woman I used to be, nor the woman I’ll meet this time next year, Godde-willing.
Gratitude, one and all.