The other day I made a list. The idea to do so arrived spontaneously.
I will write down everything I am unsure about—all of the issues and questions, currently outstanding, which remain, for now, in the mystery.
As I made the list, I was amazed at how many unanswered questions I have about my life. I would imagine I am not alone here. But, I did wonder how many had some of the questions I had, especially in mid-life? Will I have a home again—and when and where? Will I have friends? Will my children recover from our accident? Will I find work? Will I finally be able to sit down and write my books? This barely begins the list.
As I finished, many pages later, questions and unknowns still loomed upon the rolling hills in my mind. But now, there was space between all of it and me. In this space, a glimpse of compassion for myself arose. I could see why my brain feels fried and fuzzy. Why I am carrying myself a bit too tightly. Why I just might not be fully myself. Why my creative life suffers.
I posted my experience, briefly, online. Why not try it for yourself, I said, and write down the unknowns, which are probably, continuously, swimming around in your mind. Someone commented: “How about putting the energy instead into all the things that are good in your life?”
I was offended….Continue reading here.