I need to pay attention. I need to pay attention to the signs, the messages, and what is in my heart - the path towards a dream. For the last few months I've felt like I was being suffocated. At first I put it off as empty nest syndrome. Then I told myself I was just overwhelmed with the chaos of work and working too much. I had convinced myself (partially) that it was a combination of both. Still, there was a voice in my head telling me it was something else - a nagging instinct that I was not living to my potential, going after my dreams and my goals.
I was allowing myself to become suffocated by circumstance. And, not only did I allow that to happen, I was standing still for it all.
Not a good place to be.
Ever since I was a little girl I've had a wanderer's spirit. I love people and learning all about them and I love to share their stories more than I do my own. There are so many lessons all around us. We pass each other as we go about life, not really paying attention to the strangers on the street - we live in our own bubbles, but, inside each of those bubbles is a world of experience, stories of survival, tales of love and loss- lessons of life. It is those things which ignite a fire in me. Taking it all in, sharing with others, and giving people who may not have thought they had a voice, a podium. Watching people realize they matter in the grand scope of things - showing we have more in common than we do different...in spite the color of our skin, our political leanings, our heritage, or how (if) we worship a higher power -we all share in walking this world as human beings.
I am especially drawn to the wisdom of those with deep scars - their path, if known, can make positive changes in our society for future generations....all they need is someone to say "Your story matters."
If you look back on my blog you will notice I've posted similar comments before. It is something I truly believe. It is the reason I started that project two years ago, When I Became Free. A project that keeps getting placed on the back burner because I am and have been suffocated by circumstance.
If you place me in a crowded room I can sense the people with those deep scars and all that wisdom I speak of. I have always been able to. I know that sounds crazy, perhaps it is the gift of intuition, enhanced. For some reason, those very people sense something about me, that I will listen. I cannot tell you how many times strangers have opened up to me and in the oddest places. My sons get tired of it - especially in check out lines or at yard and rummage sales.
There's a reason for all of that and I know that reason serves a greater purpose.
Now, this is where some of you may think I am off my rocker and that's okay because it probably is not the first time you thought that nor will it be the last time ;) - This summer I've had four different people (strangers) give me distinct messages, all of which point to me feeling suffocated by circumstance. None of them knew of my situation nor my work in awareness. None of them knew anything about my personal life - but each message came through loud and clear - I was not living to my potential - not following my dreams.
They're right. And every time I allow myself to sit and think (dream) about my future, that project of mine is at the forefront of my mind. It needs to be revamped some, but the core is the same....providing a platform for survivors to tell their stories of thriving...everyday people, the people you pass by as you go about your day.
I am dating myself now but in a way, I envision it as a digital version similar to that television show from my youth, On the Road with Charles Kuralt. I can remember looking forward to watching the show and getting lost in the stories of real people thinking to myself, "I want to do that! I want to travel about and tell stories about people." That memory just surged up within me. I had forgotten all about it until now, writing this post.
It is funny to me looking back like that, especially since I've spent the last decade making a living as a reporter for a community newspaper - a job I fell into by accident. I didn't grow up with the aim to become a writer. If anything I applied for the job out of necessity - for survival. Perhaps there's a reason my life took that turn eleven years ago. I grew up wanting to be either an anthropologist or a social worker. Yes, I was/am odd.
Now I have goosebumps...everything does happen for a reason!! I AM and HAVE BEEN on this path for a reason, even if I never realized it all for what it was - what I thought I wanted to be ties into the work I've done and dream to do....writer, anthropology, social work... Ohhh...enter Twilight Zone music....do do do...
I am paying attention......
Now to work on that circumstance.......
To be continued....
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