Precisely Where Is That Pesky Little Re-Start Button?
I dropped in to my adult sons' apartment today for a short visit. They are in the midst of packing and things were in understandable disarray. My oldest son and youngest son are room mates and will continue this living arrangement when they re-locate. They are excited to be taking what remains of their belongings to another address as they were recently burglarized. Twice.
Both my boys are in finishing up college and they both work at the same restaurant. Crazy, huh? As mom, I couldn't be happier.
The older son has recently completed his first novel and is struggling with publishing. But still..he finished it. I'm currently reading it and he checked in with me today. "So Mom, are you on like page 17?" (He's a real smart mouth) "Noooo," I answered sarcastically, "I'm on like page 175." Which was actually pretty accurate when I checked later. "I just don't do much pleasure reading during the day," I answered.
This is where things got a tad uncomfortable. For me.
So he says, "What do you do when you're not pleasure reading?" I stammered out something lame and then quickly changed the subject. Because though I am very busy everyday, I'm certainly not doing anything note worthy.
Since the walk thingie fell into a coma, I've struggled with finding my place in the world. I've splashed around like a fish out of water trying to get my bearings. A lot of my daily efforts have been vital to getting back into the groove of living again because I must admit that I had thrown all of myself into that adventure and when it didn't unfold in the way I had dreamed, I suffered some major depression which took me months to recognize and then address. In some ways, I've merely survived.
So it has been a year and a half since the walk thingie ended. I've re-threaded the loom and am currently weaving a new pattern. No. That's not entirely honest. I want to begin weaving a new pattern but I can't seem to find the re-start button. And I'm easily overwhelmed. If I'm totally honest, totally forthright, my son's question brought me face to face with my lack of direction.
Each day I arise uttering a silent prayer to God for guidance. I whisper a litany of gratitudes. I wait expectantly for the location of that re-start button. Intuitively, I know that I know what I need to know.
I do feel quiet rumblings bubbling right below the surface of my skin. It pushes at me, desperate to escape the confines in which I've contained it. It's nearly an unquenchable ache. A kind of fire.
I alone restrain myself. God is not prohibiting movement.
I, and only I, hold the master key. But where have I hidden it?
My finger alone must push the restart button.
Only me.
And if you sit where I do today...only you can push your own re-start button.
Let's step into our brilliance with courage. And do it.
If you enjoyed this post, would you please leave a comment
www.Logancoachingconcepts.com
Both my boys are in finishing up college and they both work at the same restaurant. Crazy, huh? As mom, I couldn't be happier.
The older son has recently completed his first novel and is struggling with publishing. But still..he finished it. I'm currently reading it and he checked in with me today. "So Mom, are you on like page 17?" (He's a real smart mouth) "Noooo," I answered sarcastically, "I'm on like page 175." Which was actually pretty accurate when I checked later. "I just don't do much pleasure reading during the day," I answered.
This is where things got a tad uncomfortable. For me.
So he says, "What do you do when you're not pleasure reading?" I stammered out something lame and then quickly changed the subject. Because though I am very busy everyday, I'm certainly not doing anything note worthy.
Since the walk thingie fell into a coma, I've struggled with finding my place in the world. I've splashed around like a fish out of water trying to get my bearings. A lot of my daily efforts have been vital to getting back into the groove of living again because I must admit that I had thrown all of myself into that adventure and when it didn't unfold in the way I had dreamed, I suffered some major depression which took me months to recognize and then address. In some ways, I've merely survived.
So it has been a year and a half since the walk thingie ended. I've re-threaded the loom and am currently weaving a new pattern. No. That's not entirely honest. I want to begin weaving a new pattern but I can't seem to find the re-start button. And I'm easily overwhelmed. If I'm totally honest, totally forthright, my son's question brought me face to face with my lack of direction.
Each day I arise uttering a silent prayer to God for guidance. I whisper a litany of gratitudes. I wait expectantly for the location of that re-start button. Intuitively, I know that I know what I need to know.
I do feel quiet rumblings bubbling right below the surface of my skin. It pushes at me, desperate to escape the confines in which I've contained it. It's nearly an unquenchable ache. A kind of fire.
I alone restrain myself. God is not prohibiting movement.
I, and only I, hold the master key. But where have I hidden it?
My finger alone must push the restart button.
Only me.
And if you sit where I do today...only you can push your own re-start button.
Let's step into our brilliance with courage. And do it.
If you enjoyed this post, would you please leave a comment
www.Logancoachingconcepts.com
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