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.