Yesterday was tough. Today I needed to recalibrate.
I was able to spend time with three close friends and one wise counselor. And a partridge in a ….never mind. Overdone.
I’m not happy that other people have problems, big ones, real ones. But I’ll be honest…it makes me feel good to be able to listen to other people’s struggles for a change. I feel like I’m not just sucking the life out of the universe by always being the needy one. I’m thankful to have friends who are real and open and will give me the gift of sharing their crap with me.
This afternoon I had a counseling appointment. We talked about following your “heart path,” his words, not mine.
My path has been circuitous. Can I just tell you how many things I’ve done in my life?
Department store clothes model, cashier, bank teller, church secretary, administrative assistant, various product sales (massage chairs, Jafra, Avon, Cookie Lee, Apriori), medical transcriptionist, ASL interpreter, professional speaker, recording artist/songwriter, author, editor/ghost writer, small groups director, admissions director, and speech pathology assistant.
What I now know for sure is that I must write. It’s in my soul. It’s my passion. I knew I loved to write. But I didn’t know how deeply it ran in me, that it is my DNA, before Kimberly goaded me into posting on Caring Bridge and I found writing to be my refuge, my place of processing and healing. My place to have a conversation with others grappling with their own pain.
After today’s session with my counselor, I’m trying not to complicate everything by analyzing all the possibilities in the world (that is SUCH an enneagram 7 thing!), but rather to gently ask myself, and to pray -- “What is my heart path?”
In the past, I have tended to scapegoat God. Instead of trusting myself to make a good decision, I have asked for big signs to point me in the right direction. And then if the outcome seemed less than optimum, I could say, “Gosh, I just followed all the signs I thought God was putting in my path.” In other words, somebody screwed up, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me.
I am learning a new operating system. The Creator of the Universe -- wise, powerful, loving, merciful, gracious – is my very heart and soul. Do I really need a message written across the sky? A series of vivid dreams? A billboard that says, “Lisa, this way!” Can I not trust the still, small voice within?
I can follow my heart. It knows the way.