Oct 10, 2019 | Becoming, confidently, purpose |
Doubt won’t let me be great.
I have ideas
but doubt says they’re dumb.
Too often the ideas
stay nebulous
and never become
living, breathing entities.
You can blame doubt for that.
I walk into a room
full of peers and
question whether I belong,
wonder if there’s even
something I can offer.
I stick to the periphery
so that the opinion
I imagine others have of me
won’t collude with
my own doubt.
I’m just not sure I’ve
got the fortitude to take
all of it on.
Doubt won’t let me be great.
Some days I struggle with
purpose, passion, and possibilities –
is it really worth pursuing these?
Are these selfish pursuits?
Doubt always has a word.
Doubt is loud.
Doubt is persistent.
Doubt is strong.
Often I forget there are
other voices –
Doubt’s isn’t the only
voice I hear.
What if I
listen to the voice
that created me
and put purpose within me?
What happens if I
train my heart to hear
the voice that says
there’s work for me to do?
It’s not all doubt’s fault.
I choose what I listen to.
When doubt is loud
it is because I have
forgotten who I am.
Doubt distracts me from
what is most important
with slams and straight up lies.
But.
Truth has more to say.
Truth is louder than doubt.
Truth will persevere.
Truth is stronger.
I’m gonna listen to Truth.
#PermissionGranted
Aug 21, 2019 | Be you, Becoming, purpose |
She found a piece of herself
under the couch last month.
It was dusty and covered in Cheerio crumbs
but it definitely belonged to her.
It was hard to tell
but she thinks it might be her sense of adventure.
Last week she opened a box in the attic
and was shocked to find
her drive for justice in the box
with her high school yearbooks.
She sets the found pieces
in a box, next to her jewelry.
She doesn’t think about them again
until she finds a paintbrush
buried in the junk drawer in the bathroom.
Her heart trips over itself
at the sight of a long-lost love.
She used to be known as
the artist.
It joins the other pieces on her dresser.
The next day, during a long afternoon at work
she re-discovers her ambition via
an email search.
She found it in an email about a business idea
from when she first graduated college.
It is still a good idea.
She creates a folder titled:
Business Idea
and moves the email there so she
can come back to it.
That evening
as she puts the girls’ clothes away
she squeals when she finds
one of her favorite toys
from when she was a girl.
She realizes then, that its been
a long time since she
felt joy that
relishes the simple things.
She carries the little toy
to join the rest of the pieces of her.
When she looks up
from her jewelry tray
she catches her reflection
in the mirror and
pauses.
All this time she thought she was
a whole person,
pursuing all that she is meant to,
but now that she’s discovered
misplaced pieces of her,
she takes stock.
Is anything else missing?
How do I incorporate these
pieces of me back into my life,
where they rightfully belong?
Without them,
I am not wholly me.
Her heart quickens,
beats to redeem
lost time.
She calls for the girls as she grabs
her paintbrush and
runs to the playroom.
For now,
any paint will do.
She has to paint right this minute.
To put the pieces back together.
To be whole.
To be all that she is meant to be.
#PermissionGranted
Jun 19, 2019 | Be you, confidently, Do The Hard Thing, purpose |
The pitch darkness
makes her stumble.
It doesn’t matter if her eyes are
open or closed –
the light is the same.
She keeps to herself,
keeps herself small
so that she doesn’t
end up with bumps and bruises.
she shuffles imperceptibly.
Her lack of confidence is
because she is
swaddled in uncertainty.
Her movement,
her thoughts,
are
stunted,
stagnant.
Her dreams –
vacant.
What ifs
keep her a prisoner
to what has always been.
She sits and waits for…
she doesn’t know.
She waits but
doesn’t know why…
an invitation perhaps?
An invitation to leave
the dark and
cross the threshold
into brave.
Will it ever arrive?
Whatever it is?
This waiting game
is draining life from her.
She crashes into the nightstand
and hears a
rolling in the drawer.
She grasps in the dark
and pulls open the drawer
and shuffles through madness.
Her hands find round, tapered.
Her heart skips a beat.
Is this what hope feels like?
Her hands flit around the item
and she knows, she just knows,
it is a candle.
She reaches into the drawer again,
in search of matches.
She finds a box.
She lights the candle.
Holds her breath.
And she can see.
And she remembers.
She remembers the invitation
sent long ago.
She remembers who she is.
Ahh, yes.
This is hope.
The small light gives her enough to see
and certainty takes root in her heart.
The small light is like a
spotlight on her soul.
It stirs dreams,
stokes hope,
and she believes that there’s
possibilities for her
beyond this smallness
that she has been relegated to.
The light reminds her
of her worth,
enables her to see
the door to the room
she has been shut in for so long.
She turns towards the door
with steps of purpose.
She turns the knob and
steps into brave –
taking the candle with her.
#PermissionGranted
Are you in the dark, friend?
Find truth, seek light, and remember that you were made on purpose, for a purpose.
Are you hiding in darkness?
Cling to light and step into brave.
