Growing up, I thrived on being the responsible one. Need something done, someone to bail you out, an issue to be confronted – I was your girl. Until I wasn’t anymore. One day something snapped in me and that house of cards came tumbling down.
Sometimes it’s hard to see the ugly truth and yet, seeing with clarity is the only thing that helps us break the destructive cycles.
You are not responsible for everything. Be accountable. Strive to be self-aware. Know that there is so much more at work than you could ever carry on your own, so don’t even try.
Note to self.
I think we are all feeling the need for a new dawn.
Feeling like this cat in the long grass – unable to see what’s ahead and patiently (or impatiently) watching for a sign.
Tasks are lined up this morning to prepare for another house showing, and then the wait.
And so it goes.
Back to back showings and an Open House Saturday, and I’m falling into the perfectionism trap.
Then I found this note I’d written to my younger self:
Discard the concept of perfection:
choose to embrace vulnerability
and imperfection as fertile ground.
Taking comfort in my own words.
… or maybe the word is precarious.
The ‘for sale’ sign went up on the house Thursday. The ad online activated Friday afternoon. We’d already had a viewing scheduled before the listing went live.
In the meantime, we’ve been scrambling to pack up the excess and make this house presentable. It’s more work than remembered and we are both exhausted.
Another showing tomorrow, video-taping on Thursday, and an Open House on Saturday, and I’m afraid to admit that I feel a cold hovering.
So, yes, I’m feeling cautiously optimistic, and aware of the precariousness of my physical health.
Might need that ladder.
“When you sit in silence long enough, you learn that silence has a motion. It glides like water. Its colour is silver. And silence has a sound you hear only after hours of wading inside it. The sound is soft, like flute notes rising up, like the words of glass speaking. Then there comes a point when you must shatter the blindness of its words the blindness of its light.”
Growing up fifth of six kids, I learned that life was chaos and noise. It was where I thrived. Always shared a room, and later, an apartment, and marriage, and my own children, and when finally silence found me, it was shattering. It took a long while for me to appreciate the gift in silence, and like anything in life, I had to learn not to rest there too long.
Balance and moderation. That’s what I seek.
But, oh, I do love silence.
I love this quotation. I feel as if ‘cynicism’ has long been a companion of mine. She creeps into my writing and undermines my sleep. She is overridden, however, by my desire to make a difference.
As a teacher, I had plenty of opportunities to offer hope and substance to my students, but that has changed now. Age and illness have greatly reduced my contact with others. The striving is harder, and yet, just as applicable.
A teacher of mine once said that we are like tuning forks – our vibration, our energy, our attitude influencing those around us.
I keep these words close to mind. A worthy goal for living each day.
Like this Carolina Wren, I’m fixing my gaze on the unknown, senses alert. Temperatures are rising, we’re almost half way through July, and I’m feeling my determination strengthen. What change is on the horizon?
I’ll be over here pondering.
One Woman's Quest 