My poor little blog.
Neglected for weeks on end, receiving no nourishment as I studiously avoid looking at it. Out of the corner of my mind I see its starving visage, crying for my attention. “Mommy Why won’t you feed me mommy?”
If there was a Protection Service for Blogs, I think I would be in danger of having mine taken away.
But I am here, my darling little blog Mommy is back and she promises, promises to write more, to properly nourish and feed my child and help her grow and flourish.
I have been edging my way back, mulling over possible blog ideas, tossing them back and forth like a pitcher continuously driving a ball into her glove, never quit ready to actually throw the pitch.
But I have heard the call to deliver the ball, so here’s the pitch….
People say that about me these days. They hear about my life, about my journey, the changes I have made to, quite frankly, just be me. And they tell me it inspires them. That’s an amazing thing to hear, a wonderful thing. When I was a child, I wanted to be a rock star, a famous hockey player, a famous writer, a famous movie star or director, but more than anything, I wanted people to look at me and think “Wow This person is so awesome I want to be awesome too ” I wanted to inspire people.
My reality seemed to indicate something much different for me. People laughed at me. They teased me and dismissed me. I was so shy I hid under the bed if company was coming, I sat by the window crying for my mommy when she left me at a party. I did my best to be invisible, to sit on the sidelines, escape. In my head, oh, I was so famous and wonderful and worthy. In the world, I was a diminished, frightened soul.
That didn’t change a lot for me as I grew up. I learned to be more functional, on the surface. But even as an adult, I retreated, ran away and hid and lived in my head where I COULD make a difference. I didn’t really understand why I was this way. It was just something that had always been. I was resigned to being a misfit, a little smudge in the masterpiece of a world that seemed always beyond my reach.
And then it all broke. I was at the end of my lifeline linking me back to the world and in desperation I began to reel myself in. And that was scary. It meant looking at myself honestly, finding the love of my self enough to be able to reach in and gently pry apart the facade and walls I had hidden behind. Behind all the hurt, fear, pain, and shame, I found something truly remarkable – my self. My true and pure self. And when I had found her, had known that this was me and always had been, I was able to step into life finally. I was able to breathe, finally. I felt real and present, and since then I have embraced life and all that is in this world, and I have learned how to let fear, hurt, pain, and shame slide past me.
Really, this was always very simple. I just had to learn to get out of my own way. I had to learn to let what’s deep inside me breathe, and carry me forth. And people tell me that because I have done this simple thing I inspire them. What a gift that is to hear and know that.
I am in turn inspired by what must seem a simple thing to others. I am inspired by my partner and her courage in overcoming difficulties. I am inspired by my ancient cat when he carries on his days with energy and enthusiasm. I am inspired by my aging dog when she kicks up her heels and plays like she was a puppy. I am inspired by the teachers in my school who care for a young child crying out for help. I am inspired by so many friends of mine who struggle each and every day with a myriad of things but carry on and embrace those sunnier moments in their lives.
Look around you. See all those people and animals in your life that inspire you? They may not know they do, because maybe to them they are just doing their best, placing one foot in front of the other. Now look at yourself. Are you not doing the same?
You inspire others just by being you.
You ARE important.