pile of good things

We forget sometimes we're not doing this alone.  Which may be why we reach out with our art in the first place, for resonance.  When we speak and cry and express what we feel, we aren't looking to be the only one.  We don't want our experiences belittled or demeaned by the group, but we want a "me too".  A genuine "I understand", from the bravest of voices who know... we just have to tell the truth sometimes.

And so when what I say, suggest, argue, represent stirs up even just small ripples, I  am encouraged.

My heart hurts for you, because I know how you feel.  But I know how you feel.

Today I posted a simple quote on my Instagram page.  Mostly because I'm trying to eliminate excess (weight, belongings, accounts with balances, electricity bills, contacts in my phone) in an attempt to solve some problems.  Problems are popping up everywhere.  I am a solver of problems.

I am a solution finder.

But I read these words today, about piling up good things.  And it sounded an awful lot like building to me.  Sounded an awful like the accumulation of life, which I so often feel called to do.

It's not stuff we want to pile up.

It's firsts.

And recipes.

The constants of holidays and family traditions, for those of us who are lucky enough to have those remain the same this year.

We know what's hard.  We don't want to think about it, but we do.  We know how much money is in the bank account to last us until payday.  We know about the behavior of our children that has our patience tested.  We know how the sickness has broken our body down.  We know the stressors of houses on the market.  And rings given back.  And paying for new, small people.  About the aftermath of car accidents and uncertain prognoses.  Being the one who cares for everyone else, first. We know.

But contrary to what society would have us believe, those things do not have to define our daily life.  They must be handled.  No sweeping under the rug around here.  Handle it.  With grace and consciousness and a large dose of, "I don't like this" and keep it moving.  But the way the hard things are do not, in any way, define us.  They are our circumstances, not our story, creating the tension we need to grow.  Creating the resistance required to rise, and strengthen.

So.  What about these good things?

Just from a few responses today on the internet, I know I am not alone in feeling all these feelings.  The idea of growing and building, of shaping our lives and making things different overwhelms us.  I was reading another friend's blog yesterday and resonated so deeply when she says, "I have to change my days".  Not your whole life.  Your days.  And days are dramatically impacted more by the good you pour in, than the less than good we whittle out.

You're not alone.  Not in the fear, not in the overwhelmedness, not in the underwhelmedness you're feeling.  And to build good things, we can't be.  Alone, that is.

I want to know about your good things.

Tell me what your pile looks like.  Tell me what you're going to add, how I can be a part of the good.  I want to share that with you.