Ah, writing. It is so good for my soul. It is like food that nourishes me, filling me with vitality. Writing expands my heart opening me to the muse inside who I often hide from. What am I so afraid of? Is it the passion inside of me that I am scared if unleashed will have me running rampant screaming through the streets? What would it be like to come out of hiding and face the brilliance that lives inside me? That lives inside of all of us. Would it be like inviting my inner critic to take a vacation on a beach somewhere or at least to recognize its truth may not be my truth? What if I could know that the voice that tells me that other people will think my writing is stupid and that noone will care about what I write would tell me that whether I wrote or not? What if I knew that the inner critic was my muse in disguise daring me to write anyway. I have always loved a dare.
I dare to write because when I write I remember who I am. I remember that I am part of the ocean waves that lap the beach in the early morning light. I am the beachwalker at sunrise with her toes in the water watching the waves move up and down her legs as she skitters back from a large wave that will soak her pants.
When the next wave comes in I surrender to the wave. My pants get soaked and it feels like an adventure of letting go of always being careful. How does being careful keep me safe? Being cautious keeps me safe. Being careful keeps me small. How big could I be? Could I reach for the stars as if I were reaching into a new shiny pink lunch box that was mine for the reaching. What would my life be like if I saw smallness as an option? What if the signpost said small ness is the path to the right and to the left is checking out a green elephant with an emerald in its third eye asking me to follow it home?
I need not be afraid that I will be too big for my britches. Whose britches are those anyway and how could I be too big for them? Mom, I know you were protecting me from a world you thought was scary. A world you were sure would eat me alive if I was as creative and honest as being me was. You also needed me to need you. If I got as big as I was I would be bigger than you and not need you anymore. My smallness didn't make you happy. I thought it would. It wasn't my job to make you happy. It is my job to jump into the unknown and let go of the legacy of defining myself according to your boundaries and your truth. My truth is I am as big as the sky.I open my arms wide and breathe into this moment. I fill my body with the breath of the force of life.That life force holds us in love cheerleading us to be all that we are. Give me an A- N- D- R- E- A ! Hear it cheering for you. Hear it calling your name and inviting you to be all you can be. To reach beyond worrying about what other people will think and listen to that voice of spiritual support guiding us to come back to this moment and see what it has to offer.It is OK for me to be alone. I am safe. My mother is part of my spiritual support team now cheering me on to let go of her fears and her smallness and enter life with full inhale and exhale. That is all it takes. Being big is just being who we are. I dare you.