I lay in bed last night thinking about how it is that I do most of my thinking while lying in bed. My words that I use to come here and share seem to wave over me as I lie reflecting on the days events. Wishing at times that I had the strength to get up and start writing as the thoughts come. At that time though I am floating somewhere between consciousness and dream land. In and out of thought. Why and, for how long have I had this in me to write? I don't know. Wanting to, but never having done it for lack of time and interest in my own personal well being. This is my counsel I can look back and see how I have grown. I am not alone in this project.
Putting all of this out here for everyone to read is humbling for me in a way that I feel I am baring my soul at times. To the point that when I go back months and read my post I am still amazed at the amount of honesty I was able to give. So many times when I write I know what I am going to write about but don't have the words. I just start and not until I am finished and go back to proof it do I see the words for the first time. Where are they from? Who is writing this? I couldn't have or more so, I wouldn't have shared THAT much about myself. Feeling stripped naked for the world to read. Humbled. I mull over the words not sure whether or not I should actually post it or not. Press publish post is all I have to do. Just click it. Some days I can't. Some days I haven't. There are still a few I have left in the draft section or just deleted.
My blog has relieved me of a lot of guilt I have carried around for a long long time. Finding myself in a little bit of a panic when I hear about the next person to read my blog. Almost like a child revealing his artwork to adults for the first time. Feeling shy and timid wanting praise, not expecting it though. Getting better at receiving the compliments that come my way. Never having been very good at anything, mostly for lack of trying, this is new to me and finding the self worth and self esteem required to receive the compliments has been a task. Getting better at it though. Something in me feels as if I still do not deserve the compliments. Does that ever get easier. I feel like a putz.
Learned from my mother. I know it! I can remember the praise my mother would get for all of her talents and I can still see her bowing out with a sheepish smile like a Geisha. Knowing her work was absolutely amazing but not confident enough to take ownership of it. She could have been Martha Stewart if she had just gained the confidence she needed to own the craft she has. That is neither here nor there now. Just recognizing that for me is big. Figuring out how to change it will be huge. I am not there. Yet.
No matter what I will continue. For now I kinda just pretend you are not really out there looking. This is for me. This is for you. This is for my family. This is for my future.
This is from God.
