been thinking about my story lately. about who i was when i was younger. about who i am now, what i’m becoming. i want to find the courage and ask the adults in my life (uncles, aunts, family) who i was when i was younger – like an expedition to uncover a younger self. was i shy? did i talk too much? was i always this bossy? did you ever worry about me, about how i was after losing a parent and another one to grief? did i act normal, like all the other 8 year olds? what about those really early years when things were a bit tumultuous? what was my mom like in her twenties, early thirties?
and now, i am almost 33yrs old. how have i become? what were some of the moments, small + significant that held meaning, life-changing direction? was it when, at the age of 12, i met my bff gina – a wise soul whose natural gifts of counseling and friendship sheltered me through the teenage years and beyond? was it meeting maria stroup, an older woman whose spiritual guidance grounded me in community, friendship and service during those delicate adolescent years? was it the book i read in college that will always have meaning and underlined passages throughout? maybe it was that road trip out west when i was 22 yrs old that i’ve talked so much about. i know it’s a combination, layers and layers of experiences, heartache, love, friendship, the dynamics of loneliness, family. it leaves me in awe right now. about how we become.
i just wonder. how magic happens. how, inside (and despite) our life experiences, we find our groove, our flow. how one day we have it, and the next day we might not. inside the curl of all this wondering, i return to the memory of how i made it here to this wondrous place where i live and work inside a creative life. it’s the most recent significant event in my life and has surely changed my course in ways beyond measure. it was this: i did something i didn’t think i could do. it had nothing to do with living a creative life and everything to do with finding my strength, testing my boundaries, and uncovering the layers of muck on my heart. under the muck was me. artsy. inspired. wide awake. and wide open.
we all have something that whispers to us to do it, but for whatever reasons, we hold off. we don’t realize it’s our own potential we’re delaying, our hearts breaking open in gratitude, and our spirit rising.
i am grateful. for all of it.