I want to tell you I didn't know this all along. Didn't know that my heart was unraveling, and that some day, one day, I'd begin to understand what it all meant. I want to say that I didn't know that I have always been a curious, brave woman underneath all the niceties. That I have always had big dreams and believed fully in the possibility to achieve them. I never stopped believing - I just got scared.
What would this all look like - what would it mean to really just go for it?
I've had to clear away so many of my old beliefs that I've allowed to take the lead in my outward life. One in particular was that I could keep everything the way I wanted it and my deepest desires would still come to be.
I had to walk away from things that once served to carry me through. I had to walk, sometimes, with my hands covering my eyes, my gut turning, and tears streaming down my cheeks into my deepest fears.
I've needed to surrender to the fact that the life I lived moving forward might look nothing like what I wanted it to. I had to surrender to trust that truly, things would be okay, even though no one could offer me a sure thing.
My life is so very far from perfect. It's so very far from the tidy life I dreamt of since I was little girl where everything had a place and there was repetition, and order, that everyone would like me and that I would never offended anyone. It's impossible and exhausting to even try. Believe me - save yourself the effort. I've done the legwork!
I wish I could have fast-forwarded this entire process ten years, to save myself and those I love the most all of the trouble, but I am not in the business of outcomes. I cannot control the course of my life, but I can be wholly honest with myself, or at least be willing to try my very best.
I am grateful that today I am flexible. I am grateful to be, more often than not, a kind person. I am grateful that I can place myself in the shoes of another, to imagine what he/she is going through. I do it often in fact. If you know me, no matter how little or well, I've likely considered your story. I've had compassion for you. We are all fighting a great battle after all.
I spent the last several days in Southern California, my alpha waves flowing, as my dad told me happens when you are at peace. I spent those days at a writing retreat in Ojai called Story & Soul, led by three female memoirists who I greatly admired from afar, Claire Bidwell Smith, Jenny Feldon, and Jillian Lauren. You should all read ALL of their books because they are each beautiful, gifted writers, but what I also want to share about these lovely women is what they had to say about the writing life and life in general - it is hard - we have little control over outcomes - it can be lonely and tough - but it is damn worth it.
On the first night of the retreat Claire set the tone by explaining that the ladies dreamt up this retreat because they all believe there is truly room on the shelves for each person's story, that community is important to them and they want to foster that in other women, and in particular other female writers.
The mantra I am here, I am a writer, I believe was printed in calligraphy on a beautiful piece of card stock, wrapped in a set of mala beads inside the welcome bags on our beds. By the end of day 1, all of the ladies are wearing the beads, as necklaces, and bracelets, keeping them close as they uncovered their stories from their lives in Florida, Texas, Utah, NoCal, SoCal, and across town in Ojai - sharing in a willingness to go to the darkest, most frightening places, and when we couldn't quite identify it, huddling around each other in a gentle circle of encouragement until we did. Some were quick divers, eager to take the first leap, others it took prodding and encouragement until the last night. But everyone dove.
Each and every one of us.
Sometimes I wonder where this person came from, but then I reminded, it's who I've been all along. My own unique person, a little bit of this and a little of that. My own sort of okay. A person, I've had to come around to accept. And still a work in progress.
I am grateful that today I feel when I open my heart and allow it to rise into my own truth, I hear and see and feel what is truly happening. I am not afraid of it. I feel taken care of and loved. It is a little whisper -There is no need to go backward. You are safe, and loved so deeply.
Really, sweet girl, you are enough.
I am here.
I am a writer
I believe.
xo,
Meg
What would this all look like - what would it mean to really just go for it?
I've had to clear away so many of my old beliefs that I've allowed to take the lead in my outward life. One in particular was that I could keep everything the way I wanted it and my deepest desires would still come to be.
I had to walk away from things that once served to carry me through. I had to walk, sometimes, with my hands covering my eyes, my gut turning, and tears streaming down my cheeks into my deepest fears.
I've needed to surrender to the fact that the life I lived moving forward might look nothing like what I wanted it to. I had to surrender to trust that truly, things would be okay, even though no one could offer me a sure thing.
My life is so very far from perfect. It's so very far from the tidy life I dreamt of since I was little girl where everything had a place and there was repetition, and order, that everyone would like me and that I would never offended anyone. It's impossible and exhausting to even try. Believe me - save yourself the effort. I've done the legwork!
I wish I could have fast-forwarded this entire process ten years, to save myself and those I love the most all of the trouble, but I am not in the business of outcomes. I cannot control the course of my life, but I can be wholly honest with myself, or at least be willing to try my very best.
I am grateful that today I am flexible. I am grateful to be, more often than not, a kind person. I am grateful that I can place myself in the shoes of another, to imagine what he/she is going through. I do it often in fact. If you know me, no matter how little or well, I've likely considered your story. I've had compassion for you. We are all fighting a great battle after all.
I spent the last several days in Southern California, my alpha waves flowing, as my dad told me happens when you are at peace. I spent those days at a writing retreat in Ojai called Story & Soul, led by three female memoirists who I greatly admired from afar, Claire Bidwell Smith, Jenny Feldon, and Jillian Lauren. You should all read ALL of their books because they are each beautiful, gifted writers, but what I also want to share about these lovely women is what they had to say about the writing life and life in general - it is hard - we have little control over outcomes - it can be lonely and tough - but it is damn worth it.
On the first night of the retreat Claire set the tone by explaining that the ladies dreamt up this retreat because they all believe there is truly room on the shelves for each person's story, that community is important to them and they want to foster that in other women, and in particular other female writers.
The mantra I am here, I am a writer, I believe was printed in calligraphy on a beautiful piece of card stock, wrapped in a set of mala beads inside the welcome bags on our beds. By the end of day 1, all of the ladies are wearing the beads, as necklaces, and bracelets, keeping them close as they uncovered their stories from their lives in Florida, Texas, Utah, NoCal, SoCal, and across town in Ojai - sharing in a willingness to go to the darkest, most frightening places, and when we couldn't quite identify it, huddling around each other in a gentle circle of encouragement until we did. Some were quick divers, eager to take the first leap, others it took prodding and encouragement until the last night. But everyone dove.
Each and every one of us.
Sometimes I wonder where this person came from, but then I reminded, it's who I've been all along. My own unique person, a little bit of this and a little of that. My own sort of okay. A person, I've had to come around to accept. And still a work in progress.
I am grateful that today I feel when I open my heart and allow it to rise into my own truth, I hear and see and feel what is truly happening. I am not afraid of it. I feel taken care of and loved. It is a little whisper -There is no need to go backward. You are safe, and loved so deeply.
Really, sweet girl, you are enough.
I am here.
I am a writer
I believe.
xo,
Meg