Thursday, September 29, 2011

remembering

i turned off my driveway onto my street.

'and she walked...' i thought.

how many times have i turned onto this street trying to get my head together?

you'd think i'd have a pretty together head by now!

i walked and thought things like - 'what is it you want to do for you?
what is it you need to give yourself? what is it that you want, terri?
you don't have to raise kids anymore, where does that leave you without
that distraction? the responsibilities are different. it's time for you to give to you.
what will that be?'

aren't those great questions to ask yourself?
and how cool to enter a time of life when you can finally ask yourself that.
and yet, it's gonna take some work to figure this out.
it's been a lifetime of living for others.

and then thoughts that i didn't want to ramble thru my head, rambled on thru.
and i told myself that i was the master of my own thoughts. i didn't have to
let these guys ramble thru.

oh, yeah, easier said then done, i argued.

but the thing is, i've done this before.
i've taken thoughts that i felt would never stop running thru my head,
and i kept throwin' them out, and going back to ones i wanted.
over and over and over again.
and it worked.

so i tossed these thoughts out.
several times.
and figured i'd just keep tossing til i didn't need to toss anymore.

and then i got home and picked up the wild woman book and read a few pages.

my gosh...i saw what the book does for me.
the thoughts i had on my walk were things i was doing, working on, trying with.
which is all good and fine.
but...
the book reminds me - it's all inside me already.
when i read her words it's like i REMEMBER.

i have this feeling when i read that book,
i remember what's inside of me.

and i believe in it.

what an absolutely amazing gift to get this morning.
and every time i pick up that book.

i think i'm gonna glue it to my hips or something.

i'm gonna do the work i need to do.
always.
but what i want to do more than that is i want to remember on a daily basis.

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