Coming Home

Not trusting myself to write, I’ve stayed away.  Life was crazy busy. At times, the challenges took my breathe away and I wondered if I would make it through.   Apparently, “what doesn’t kill you does make you stronger.”  I grieved the losses both big and small and tried to carry on as normal but often failed.  My heart wasn’t in it.  I was trapped in a prison of me.

Slowly, I let other people’s stories in.  I heard of their struggles, their sorrows.  I watched them cope.  I felt some of their pain and began to under stand that I am not alone with my troubles.  Everyone has something that plagues them.

In less than two weeks, I will be 56 years old.  I have no idea where the time went or how I made it this long.  My life is no longer an endless road that unfurls before me, full of options and potential.  The road has narrowed into a single small path and it gets narrower each day.  My own mortality takes me by surprise.  It tries to haunt me with regret.  It zaps me with jolts of reality.    Inside, I’m still young.  I have so much left to do.

One day, a short time ago, I was mourning my lost chances.  Using them as spears to pierce my well being, I was absorbed in the task of hurting myself with my own thoughts.  Quickly, something much sharper poked through.  Inside my head a clear, strong voice speaks:

“Stop!  You are living the life you want.  The details may not always be to your liking but the choices you’ve made have brought you to today and it isn’t that bad.”

I was speechless.

The voice inside me added, “Don’t waste any more time wishing for something else and missing the moments.  This isn’t a dress rehearsal.  This is the show.  Make it a good one.”

I wish I could say that I have devoted myself to the task and never fell into old habits.  It’s just much harder to stay stuck there.

Reminders of the joys of the moment keep making themselves known.

This morning, I find a link to this video in my inbox.  It is my time to shine.

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I am the person behind the words printed here. I write because my heart will not allow me the option of NOT writing. It has taken me half a life time to discover this basic truth, but now that I have, writing is as natural as breathing. This is where my breath takes the form of words.


I am reading

The Miracle Morning: The Not-So-Obvious Secret Guaranteed to Transform Your Life (Before 8AM)
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