Monday, May 3, 2010


"To every person there comes that moment when he is figuratively tapped on the shoulder to do a very special thing unique to him.  What a tragedy if that moment finds him unprepared for the work that would be his finest hour."
~Winston Churchil~

"Hell would be if God were to show me things I could have accomplished if only I had believed in myself."


Don't tell me how old you are, or what you do for a living, or where you live, or what kind of car you drive.  Tell me about your goals and what you are doing to attain them.  Tell me what is in your heart. Tell me about your dreams.  Tell me what you love. Tell me what you cry for, yearn for, long for, and ache for. Tell me from your heart. Then, and only then, will I know who you are.

There have been times, way too many, when I have had to, or been forced to, abandon my journeys, my moments, my longings, my desires.  And sometimes I have been so injured that I never thought I could feel again.  There were times when I didn't know how to live again.  And there have been times when I was afraid joy would never find me again.

Sunday I went through boxes and drawers and closets and memories and did inventory of twenty years of my life.  I filled garbage cans and paper shredders and bags with 'happily ever afters' and 'wish I had known betters.'  There was a quiet sadness about the day, yet something inexplicably freeing.

We expect so much of relationships, friendships, family members, jobs, and life.  We expect so darned much.  But in so doing we forget that  our souls can flourish in small unexpected moments of joy.  I don't expect to feel happy every day, but I guess that causes me to feel fleeting happiness more profoundly.  Most of us do what we are able to do, to have a meaningful life, a productive life, and a life where there is more happy than sad.

As I looked at photographs of places and people I once thought I couldn't live without, I realize I did live without them.  The pain passed and life has gone on. Bittersweet. Minutes, hours, days pass and we go on.  Our stories unfold into a larger story.  We learn that we can't run from disappointment and pain for fear of being sideswiped by yet another letdown.  It is just another way of trying to be in control.  But it is in giving up that control that we find out, if we are lucky and if we are observant enough, what our purpose is. What we are made for.  What we are made of. Why we are on this earth.

And you know what - this is joy!  It is in knowing why we are here and feeling that enormous passion deep inside that we find joy.  This is where we are able to contribute to the world.

"I was made to dance around the dining room table in the arms of a man who loves me, letting the food get cold.  I belong to the stars in the night sky and on the mirrored surface of the lake - to the silence of the wilderness in darkness.  I was made to ride the dragon.  I belong to the ideas I love.  I was made to study and learn and teach and write.  I belong to all of this and much more - this is my joy.  And it is limitless."
~Oriah Mountain Dreamer~


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