i could have been many people. i often wonder about how one things leads to another. how i’ve ended up where i am. on the west coast, far from any family. happily married. in the midst of changes, big and small. a social worker. an artist. confident yet sensitive. her own worst critic. but how, how did this all happen? how did I happen? tiny steps turn into bigger ones. those turn into leaps. big decisions are made, and before i knew it, i was on my way. the momentum of life carries me sometimes, and it’s easy to not pay attention. to my real self. real dreams. real intention.
who else might i have been? if i hadn’t lost a father when i was 8? would i still be overly concerned and worried when john is five minutes late? would my relationship with my mother and sister be different somehow? would i be different? would i have been someone who took life, and the people in mine, for granted, not realizing how quick a life can be taken? would i be better at showing it? would i have grown up in the country, where we used to live, instead of the city? and then would i have stayed in the country, living on the lake, in rural florida, rather than in this huge city in california? would i be someone who doesn’t cry at any movie/book/conversation having to do with loss? and would i have chosen to work in a profession which largely deals with people and their tragedies? would i be so neurotic? would i be as happy as i am now?
who else might i have been?
i am a firm believer that we attract in our lives is a direct result of what we’re thinking about and what’s in our heart. i also believe that whenever something terrible happens, that something out of that experience is being born for me to discover. for me, what was born out of my personal tragedy was the discovery of myself along the way, through all of these years. a girl, a woman, who loves, and loves deep and wide. life. the people in it. their stories. my story. we are all connected. i feel that deeply. and it brings me comfort.
more sunday scribblings here.
that’s deep – real deep. made me kinda teary-eyed, but then again everything makes me teary-eyed. miss u.
much aloha
I was lucky to have my dad into adulthood and I’m still a worry wart. Life is precious and you recognize that for what it is.
it seems like your time “off” is really getting deep into your psyche. wow. i am amazed at your courage to confront these huge questions. you are awesome.
britt
Great post, Kelly. It’s such a mystery, how our actual paths unfold, part chance, part… I don’t know, soul? Where our souls guide us? (And when I say soul, I don’t really know what I mean, but really just that part of us that makes us US. Our us-ness!)
Wow – this was very familiar reading. I lost my father when I was 13 and have those same tendencies to cry at all losses and worry when the DH (dear hubby) is late. >-) But like you, I also see the preciousness of life intensely. Thank you for sharing yourself with us!
This was a very beautiful post. It is truly amazing how all the external occurances in our lives affect our internal selves.
this is a really sweet post. your ability to see how you’ve come to be who you are and your ability to find comfort in those feelings of being connected are really touching. thanks for visiting my blog by the way.. your comments have mattered to me.
Oh, Kelly. I could relate so much to this! And it was so honestly and beautifully said form your heart… I think I do the same kind of work, for the same kind of reasons. I am the same kind of worry wart nut-case, for the same kind of reasons.(I am sorry you lost your dad at such a young age. 🙁
I think the world is better for the person life made you, Kelly. In fact, I am sure of it.
🙂
Great post. I often turn over these questions in my head to no end and that last paragraph just shows again that the point isn’t to live in regret of what could have been, but to live in the comfort of what has been and what is.
It is strange, sometimes, to look back and wonder, how did I get here? I think about decisions I made that were like dominoes, everything else falling around them. This is a great post, and it sounds like you’ve turned the tragedy from your childhood into something positive – helping others. There is blessing in that!
What you say is so true Kelly, so many things change us.. the skill in all this, is to keep questioning and looking for answers x
Lovely, thoughtful post. That last paragraph echoes my sentiments, exactly!