Blog Archives
For The Longest Time
I’ve been under going a transformation.
I won’t compare it to that of a caterpillar to a butterfly … but rather a snake shedding its skin.
Outgrowing my old, dull, scarred protective layer and using every muscle to pull free – brushing up against rough things to shed that final piece.
What has emerged is raw, sensitive, achingly new and wonderful.
I have a twinkle in my eye. A secret smile. A feeling of hope – and promise.
Taylor James
________________
I sat outside earlier and watched the last of the suns rays playing with the cloud cover … a breeze moved my long hair. I was glad in that moment I had not decided to cut it.
Billy Joel drifted to me from a nearby house “I’m that voice you’re hearing in the hall …” I exhaled – closed my eyes. I felt in that moment, beautiful.
I felt that I was enough.
That I was awakening.
“I haven’t been there for the longest time
I had second thoughts at the start
I said to myself
Hold on to your heart”
I seem to have suddenly gone from ‘what will I be?’ to ‘I know just who I am.’ And the woman in me approves.
My inner goddess that craves touch – intimacy – interaction and laughter has been given the green-light by the cautious, anxious mother in me.
It’s my turn.
“Now I know the woman that you are
You’re wonderful so far
And it’s more that I hoped for”
I thought this newly emerged ‘me’ was my secret – but she’s not. Others have noticed. That I’m smiling more. Laughing more. Being bolder and have a glow to me.
I’m spending more time with friends – noticing the opposite sex.
I’m completely and delightfully aware that anything is possible. And giving myself permission to explore that.
“I don’t care what consequence it brings
I have been a fool for lesser things”
And I haven’t felt that for the longest time.
“See you when I get back when you get back”
Every weekday.
6:00 a.m. Alarm goes off.
6:10 a.m. Take breakfast in to my sleeping teen.
6:15 a.m. Sit outside with my first cup of coffee and look up at the stars. (Is that a satellite or a plane? What is that?)
6:30 a.m. Teen has eaten and arisen and is checking his Facebook with 10 minutes left to get ready for school.
6:40 a.m. I see my son out the backdoor, give him a quick hug and he says those words to me. “See you when I get back when you get back”.
I stand on the back porch and wave. It’s dark outside, so I’m mostly waving at my sons shadowy outline – and it waves back. When I can’t see him anymore I go into the house to grab another cup of coffee and watch some more news before getting ready.
7:00 a.m. Get ready myself.
I mentioned yesterday to a friend that I feel like I’m stuck in the movie ‘Groundhog Day’ lately. And I do. But, this morning routine I’ll keep.
This morning routine means.
6:00 a.m. I am still alive, and I have my hearing
6:10 a.m. We have food and my son is safe
6:15 a.m. Serenity
6:30 a.m. The electric and internet bill is paid
6:40 a.m. My son still hugs me, still talks to me …
7:00 a.m. Blessed to have a job to get ready for!
