Mostly, I don’t

A few days ago, I was talking about this blog with a very kind and smart friend.

“Lately, I’ve been wondering why I do it.  I don’t know that there’s a point.”

“It’s a discipline,” he said.  “That’s more than enough.”

When he called it a discipline, I gave myself permission to accept (even if just for the moment) the gift of accomplishment.

I see myself in many ways – still want to see myself in many ways.  Disciplined and strategic though, rarely reflect back.

Mostly, I don’t know what I’m doing.  Mostly, I don’t have a plan.  Mostly, I am just trying to figure out how I feel, and then using those feelings to take the next highest healing step.

I trip up (and down) a lot.

But this morning, I realized that this month marks my one year return to writing.  A full year of honoring this sacred and scary practice of gratitude, creativity, and discovery.

I know there is more – so much more – but perhaps (even if just for this morning) I will believe that I am disciplined enough to do it.

 

 

 

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