Priming the Pump
I'm just in a funk...sort of...so, I'm going to free flow and get whatever it is that is clogging up my writing pipes--out.
Five minutes....starting now...10pm...Ready, Set, Go
How many steps did I take before letting go of my parent's hand when I learned to walk? When did I learn to cross the street without reaching for Mom or Dad? It all happened when I was focused on where I was going and not on whether or not I was being guided or held, but watching for myself and stepping off the curb with confidence that I could safely make it to the other side on my own. Did that mean my mother or father loved me less? No, of course not.
Sometimes, people hold our hands on an emotional level instead of physical one. We lean on them for guidance and support, for reassurance and validation that we are worth loving. When they let go, it doesn't always mean they love us less, it may mean they believe we are ready to face things alone or it may mean that THEY themselves are ready to face things alone.
There has been a shift inside recently...I think it is a transitioning into becoming a more confident writer and woman on many levels. There is someone I used to lean on that is no longer present very often and I'm finding out...I'm okay. It doesn't mean that person stopped caring. It may just mean we are both in a different place...a stronger place...a more stable place and even though there are twinges of heartache from missing the interaction there is a very real inner peace through it all, because...I feel whole for the first time in a long time and I rejoice in the fact that this person, that means a lot to me, is moving forward in a positive manner.
Life sometimes has a soft way of blending one aspect of our lives into another...a gradual change like growing older, stronger, and independent.
I think I just need to embrace the wind and trust that I can fly...no longer fearing the sky. I don't need to fly tandem anymore. I can do this. I'm ready, because I had a great teacher.
(Looking at watch...it is actually 10:15 and not 10:05, but that's okay. I didn't know that was in there. It may read like it was planned, but I assure you it wasn't. I feel better. Thanks for letting me talk myself through that.)
Five minutes....starting now...10pm...Ready, Set, Go
How many steps did I take before letting go of my parent's hand when I learned to walk? When did I learn to cross the street without reaching for Mom or Dad? It all happened when I was focused on where I was going and not on whether or not I was being guided or held, but watching for myself and stepping off the curb with confidence that I could safely make it to the other side on my own. Did that mean my mother or father loved me less? No, of course not.
Sometimes, people hold our hands on an emotional level instead of physical one. We lean on them for guidance and support, for reassurance and validation that we are worth loving. When they let go, it doesn't always mean they love us less, it may mean they believe we are ready to face things alone or it may mean that THEY themselves are ready to face things alone.
There has been a shift inside recently...I think it is a transitioning into becoming a more confident writer and woman on many levels. There is someone I used to lean on that is no longer present very often and I'm finding out...I'm okay. It doesn't mean that person stopped caring. It may just mean we are both in a different place...a stronger place...a more stable place and even though there are twinges of heartache from missing the interaction there is a very real inner peace through it all, because...I feel whole for the first time in a long time and I rejoice in the fact that this person, that means a lot to me, is moving forward in a positive manner.
Life sometimes has a soft way of blending one aspect of our lives into another...a gradual change like growing older, stronger, and independent.
I think I just need to embrace the wind and trust that I can fly...no longer fearing the sky. I don't need to fly tandem anymore. I can do this. I'm ready, because I had a great teacher.
(Looking at watch...it is actually 10:15 and not 10:05, but that's okay. I didn't know that was in there. It may read like it was planned, but I assure you it wasn't. I feel better. Thanks for letting me talk myself through that.)

Comments
The break might have been just what you needed to come into another stage of your writing. :D
Anyway...thank you for taking the time to read and comment. I know it was pretty much a dear diary moment on my part.
You go!