My deepest lessons come to me through the words I send to my daughters. Some are written, some spoken. Words are a passion of mine, and when I give them, I think them through. I wallow in them, if you will.
It’s laughable how often God brings me a lesson through the words that he leads me to share with others. For my girls – I tend to march along all mom-like, giving advice, handling their questions, trying to engage in their lives as adults. I can, at times, feel more than a little smug about how well I interact with them, how much I bring to their lives. Then out-of-the-blue (uh,huh, keep believing that, Diane) I have a realization. “This question, tirade, information…..it’s for ME, not them.”
Case in point. I wrote this to my lovely oldest this morning:
Good morning my dear Abby. There is a beautiful covering of snow in our area. School is cancelled and the house is quiet for the moment. I am full of memories. Of love for my children. Of sadness at the silence and wonder at the amazing life I have been leading. I want you to know, Abigail, that you are one of the biggest joys of my life. That seeing you out in this huge world of ours makes me swell with pride. Not the pride of having raised you — you did most of that yourself. No. It is pride of being one of your closest held people. Of being important in your world. I am proud to say that I know of you. That I come into your thoughts. That your talents from God are something that I know a lot about. You make my world full of joy and promise and passion for life. These last few months of school will feel overwhelming, stupid, annoying, maddening and sometimes downright fun. Don’t let them slip by overshadowed by your lack of control over them. Slide through them with the confidence that you are good at what you do. You are loved by so many. You bring something of substance to every step you take.
And what of me? I know myself to be able to weep as I sit in my car on our bridge and listen to the sounds of the creek as it slides by on either side. I can spend hours looking through photos of my world. I write because I frequently cannot contain the passions that I feel for the people around me. I don’t publish those writings because I can’t seem to get them right. And, frankly, I believe my passion bubble is off kilter. I believe it is out of practice – that my heart is out of shape.
I tell me students that when it comes to self-care – I’d like to see them take care of themselves as well as they take care of the people they love. Sleep as you tell your children to sleep. Eat as you serve them food. Talk to yourself the way you talk to others – with that same knowledge of how your words affect them – you – when spoken. Intonation, content, intent. Be cautious and careful with yourself. As you are with others.
I wish to do the same for me. Intonation, content, intent. To infuse myself with the support and love that I feel with others — and to really mean it. I want to love myself with the fierceness that I love my husband, my daughters. And I want to mean it. I understand the entire concept of faking it till you make it — and that positive self talk is good for me. (Thank you Anne, I have been listening.) I don’t hate myself, by any means, but I don’t watch me as closely as I watch others — and I certainly don’t nurture me as I nurture those I love.
Beginning this requires self-reflection. I don’t like that.
An admission, to begin. My two sided coin. I have the gift of deep love for passion and helping others pull their passions into reality. I have a fear of being left behind, unneeded.
As I write this, I realize that one drives the other. And that in actuality, what I really don’t want to think about right now is my Audrey being engaged. Oh, it is right. It is good. It is quite exciting. And frankly, she’s never really needed me anyways. I was gifted with such a creative beauty – just to revel in. She has known God all along, and leads me through my skepticism and angst with gentle prodding and laughter – just like she’ll lead me through this transition. And I will be gracious and happy and laugh with her as we get her ready. And most of the time I’ll be sane. And once in awhile – I will fear her independence and not being able to look across the room (again, there is a pattern here) and see her curled up drawing on our couch.
It is good. Passion and fear. Accepting it. And talking to myself with quiet intonation, honest content, and positive intent.
wanderingoutinleftfield 
This was so moving, your words just flow like the love that flows from your heart. I consider you a true treasure my friend and I am blessed God brought you into my life!! xoxo Chelle
There are so many areas to this writing that I relate to and could respond to. I appreciate your transparency and hope that one day, I can become as comfortable with my own thoughts. I second guess every thought, it would seem.
You wrote, “I know myself to be able to weep as I sit in my car on our bridge and listen to the sounds of the creek as it slides by on either side. I can spend hours looking through photos of my world. I write because I frequently cannot contain the passions that I feel for the people around me. I don’t publish those writings because I can’t seem to get them right. And, frankly, I believe my passion bubble is off kilter. I believe it is out of practice – that my heart is out of shape.” I felt like I wrote that excerpt. Perhaps it is common for those of us who are so creative and so filled with passion and compassion, to feel like we cannot “get our thoughts right”. (What is “right” anyways?) Or, to feel that our passion and thoughts are “off kilter”. I wonder….as I also put myself through endless torment and needless suffering, who judges or decides what thoughts are or are not accurate? For, no man has walked in your shoes. No man has walked in my shoes. It is possible that life has molded and shaped us from the inside out, much like the ocean currents change the shape of a rock that has been tossed beneath the churning ocean waters. I wonder….what do we start out as….and what would we be without the waves of life, molding and shaping us. Would we always be “on kilter” then? Would we always be an example of perfection in thought and speech? What is perfection? Perhaps you and I…..perhaps we are perfect in our imperfections. Perhaps we are who we are, and as the gray crown atop a woman’s head signifies wisdom, because she has LIVED…. Maybe our thoughts and the words that we write are of a level of wisdom in our reflection of our own heart’s yearnings… we write out of what we have become through the molding of life, be it trauma, or joy, or education, or the wisdom we gain from the infants who taught us.
We should not second guess our being. We are where we are supposed to be for the journey that we have finished thus far.
It seems that those of us with “the ministry of caring for others” find self care to be a challenge. I admit that I do not take very good care of myself. In fact, over the last few years, I have treated my body and mind with neglect and utter abuse. I would never treat anyone else that way. Walking through fire, I had found myself. Then, when things got easier I lost myself. We know that fire is refining. Refining gets rid of the dross. Dross is unwanted material that is removed from a mineral (such as gold) to make it better….. WE ARE BECOMING BETTER. The dross is floating to the top….where Jesus can take it from us if we give it to Him. (Why is it so much easier to help others than myself?)
You are right about passion and fear. It is good. And talking to yourself with quiet intonation, honest content, and positive intent…..that sounds like the greatest gift you could give yourself!
I got a journal out this morning. I stared at it. It stared back at me. I said to myself that I would begin to deal with my greatest fears today….as I begin my journey of weaning off of anxiety medication. I laid the journal down in two different rooms, along with the pen. I looked at it several times…. paper and pen that used to be my constant companions, now seem so untrusting. They even seem scary.
Then I read your writing. I’m thinking about what this means: quiet intonation, honest content, and positive intent….
Pick up the pen. Write anything. Put it down when your hand is tired. It will be right!