~ Honoring Where Love Comes From ~

In a prior blog I wrote about not getting stuck in frustration because love isn’t coming from where you think it should and honoring where it is coming from.

That hit home for me today. I was loved and honored. I was validated and reminded that all is right and good in my world today. I was not judged, not even for an instant and I was set free from a crippling need to be right in a situation that was not mine to be right in. I was heard and was told that we all sometimes are afraid and we all make mistakes once in awhile. I was guided back to my core of serenity – gently, gracefully and patiently and reminded to have gratitude for how much I have and how far I have come.

I was Loved.

Once again today I was gently nudged by my soul sister, nudged to look towards the direction of God’s arms which were wide open and ready to embrace me. And ever so graciously, I was told that because I overlooked that they were also wide open yesterday, and I forgot to be grateful then, it doesn’t mean I failed.

I was Honored.

When I shared that yesterday’s truth was shadowed in an instant and triggers rose so rapidly that everything I know to be real and true and good was negated, I was told that “it’s OK.” After speaking about my need to be protected, winning over proof that there was nothing to be protected from, I received a smile and a nod of understanding. And when I expressed that I forgot to remember that we are all doing the best we can and already are perfect in the eyes of our Creator, I was reminded that “I am human.” I was shown very gently, that I do not today, or ever have to apologize for stumbling, because we all do sometimes.

I was Validated.

After sharing that sometimes what I “feel” seems so true, even though I know that “feelings aren’t facts,” we were able to chuckle. And confiding that “somewhere deep down in the recesses beyond my need to be right,” I know that I am often wrong,” provided us with a belly laugh. Then, when I asked why these feelings, these emotions sometimes become so palpable that they take over, I was offered a hug. And in the next moment I was thanked for a time long before today, when I had been able to love, to honor and to validate my beautiful soul sister in the same way she was doing for me today. A time when I was remembering all the good things there are to remember and was grateful. A time where I wasn’t forgetting.

And all of that, to me, is Love. The listening, the hearing, the speaking, the laughter, the hugs, the tears and the smiles. The sharing, the reminding, the hard truth, the soft landings, the back and forth and the taking turns with all of it. And right now I am focused on where I got this Love from today and not on where I didn’t get it from yesterday because of all the human-ness that got in the way.

And now I know, again, until I forget and need another reminder, that if or when I become stuck in “how something makes me feel” so rapidly that everything else falls away, I will get through. And if my feelings try to take on a life of their own and I start to lose sight of God’s open arms or of how much there is to be grateful for, I can remember today’s chuckle or smile or hug.
I think I can. Wait, I’m sure I can. Because I was Honored. I was Validated. I am Loved.

And If I Ever Touched a LIfe, I Hope That Life Knows That Touching Is, Was and Always Will Be, The Only True Revolution.” Nikki Giovanni

I have to laugh.  I just sat and re-read my last blog.  Holy blah, blah, blah.  A bit wordy, but therapeutic nevertheless.  Sometimes the words come out so quickly, flowing and spilling over one another into the next one so fast that it’s hard to realize that you are saying the same thing over and over.  As I read it my first doubtful, fearful thought was “Oh God, what the heck would anyone think of this wordy piece?” …but then, my second thought was how damn good it felt to type every single word of it, to run my fingers over the keys as the sentences tumbled over each other.  And wordy or not, I remember how much the message helps me by typing it and I smile because that truly is the point.

This whole blogging thing has been therapeutic yes, but scary too.  Regarding my last blog, I’d actually written a different version earlier, but was afraid to post it because it was more specific, more raw, more blunt and because it put stuff so “out there.”  I worried that it was too personal even though gracepaidforward is for the most part anonymous.  The other one included references to my little sister and to some of “our” stuff.  My beautiful and amazing little sister who probably doesn’t know how much of both I think she is. 

I referenced her as “the littler girl,” the one I wasn’t really there for and who I didn’t protect very well and who I just didn’t have the tools yet to know how to love and honor better.  The one I wanted to look like and be like and the one, the only one I know, who would ever truly understand. 

I was so afraid that she would be mad at what I had typed, that she might accuse me of delving too deep into the past and that she wouldn’t like what I had written, so I deleted it.  Ironically, only moments after I did I got a phone call from her telling me that she had seen the post.  She sounded teary when she told me that she had read what I had written (she didn’t know I had just erased it) and that it had touched her, had made her cry.  She said I should write a book.  And I knew. I knew that from that moment on whatever I wrote going forward would be perfect no matter who would ever read it and no matter what they ever thought.  That one moment between the two of us would be enough to make all the rest of it worthwhile no matter what. 

I really love my little sister and feel truly blessed that she made that phone call to me.  I love that she was willing to be vulnerable enough to do so and I really wish I had a chance to go back and do it all a bit differently.  A chance to be a big sister, to be her champion.  An opportunity to not spend so much time pretending I felt better in my skin than I did, so that I could spend more time telling her how wonderful she was.  A chance to speak up for her and for me so that we could be better in today.  Perhaps it’s not too late.  And so, little sis, if by chance you get to read this blog, this one that I will absolutely NOT delete, I love you and honor you and completely and utterly understand, always.  We have each other