I think this is a topic we all can relate: how do we feel in the middle of change?
Below is my blog post on this subject. Please share your own stories...
I just read a blog of a 29Gift friend; she's having a difficult time seeing her worth. I understand a bit of this, coming to the challenge looking for change within myself as I cope with serious illness.
It's as if we're yearning for a new place so badly, and we've been at trying to change for a while, but we don't see the final clear picture of change... so we throw our hands up in the air and sob, "It's too much!"
Then we want to run to the privacy of our rooms, throw covers over our heads, and sob into our pillows. "Forget this!" We cry. "It's too hard!" Sniffle. "I'm not good enough!"
But of course we are good enough. We can't forget we are called to something greater than the way we've been living/thinking/dreaming. It's only as hard as we make it.
If we look back on our written record of the giving we've been doing, we see that we have made a difference. In fact, some days our impact on others spread like a giant ripple into the cosmos.
In those days, we felt like jeweled Queens in a technicolor world with attending birds singing songs of joy at our every step. We had faith our giving presence would reign on forever.
But when we're met with days where the sink is clogged, the kids are screaming, our bodies are failing us, the men we yearn for are bored with us, drivers throw hostile fingers at us, people who don't give back want more from us, the weather is gray, the air is cold and our bones are stiff-- our hope turns stale.
This is when we must do what is hardest. Give anyway.
Our job is to remember the sink's nature is to help the waters flow, children are born to laugh, our bodies are called to move, and lovers are meant to share and spread love.
Our challenge is to smile instead of a sneer, offer a hug when our arms feel empty, and see incredible beauty in the vast spectrum of shades of gray.
Our challenge is to hold space for hope, for change, for health, for new habits and for all the things we desire. In holding space and continuing to practice, we loosen our hold on our old ways. As the grip loosens, we may experience fear, but if we keep practicing, our fear will pass. The new us will emerge.
So if you are stuck in the middle of not-where-you-want-to be, remember: this is how we dance heat into our bones.