Sometimes I go back in my journals to see where I’ve been. Lots of journalers don’t do that. They write, then throw the used up binder in a box somewhere for their kids to find years after they are gone. Not me. I like to look back. I like to see if I’ve changed. It gives me hope, and quite honestly, courage to keep at it.
I looked back the other day, when I was thinking about some changes in my life, and found an entry from almost one year ago. Here it is:
March 30, 2010
“I remember you. I do. You were the one that told me that this doesn’t happen overnight. It takes the energy of effort and work and will and the peace and stillness of time.
You were a source of great irritation to me then.. I wanted FAST. Quick, complete, and restored, thank you very much. My way would be fine, and no need for alternate opinions.
I already knew what I needed to know…except of course, that we never know what we don’t know. We think we are ready for what we aren’t nearly prepared for. I thought I knew what I wanted. More than that, I was sure I knew what I needed. Turns out that a willing heart is only developed through experiences that show how totally unprepared we truly are for what we so desperately may want.
What I know today, but truthfully still struggle against doing, is that I can only tell you what my way was like…how I got to today…not how you should get here. My path had days that seemed like I was going down when I wanted to be climbing. My story has days of learning to take accountability so that I understand my part in the storm. My sadness has moments of hilarity and twisted humor that few can understand, but it carried me. And even on the days when I thought I had finally achieved wholeness, I would be reminded that there were new steps to take, which were scary and made me mad.
Getting healthy isn’t pretty. Often it’s quite ugly. Getting “backstage” takes some guts.
By the way, still working on this. Process is process is process is process……
My dearest friends and family know how grateful I am for my unique walk (pun intentional :-)). Such a reminder.
My hope is, when my children find my journals someday and read through the pages…the heart and thoughts of their mom…that they will discover nothing new. They will realize that they already knew me, and that the transparency I so longed for in my relationships was there all along with them.