This I Know

The snow outside my window is slowing melting, giving way to brown grass and dirt underneath. I want it to hurry up - hurry and melt and give way to the promise of spring and new life. We've had a long winter in my part of the world. The temperature has been milder 'over all' than many of our winters, but we are now at five and a half months of snow on the ground. The last of the snow and ice will be here past the six months mark. That's far too long: too many days of snow, heavy winter coats, scraping car windows, short hours of daylight, days of cloud and gray skies. I'm tired of it. This winter hit me hard. I became my winter self. I did try to fight it, for awhile, but gave in to being that cold, gray, stormy person. I know the way out of this but chose to not fight. I'm not sure why - it just seemed too hard. Rather than taking control, I waited for the magic to transform my world. It didn't happen. While waiting for the magic I hurt myself, and worse, I hurt other people. Today there is hope of spring in the air. The magic is coming.

I've written of and spoken of reclaiming myself. This week I realized it is not reclaiming myself that is my mission and purpose, but reclaiming my self. I know deep within my core, my soul, my heart that my self is there and always has been. Reactions to my life circumstances caused me to bury that self for many years; I believe we all do this. I've been given a second chance to live, to be that self. I have a do-over. Will I do it perfectly? No. Will I hurt myself and others? Yes. Will I struggle, fall down, have days of wanting to give up and give in? Certainly! Will I keep getting back up, brush myself off, and move forward? Definitely.

Three things that my self knows:

- I have a purpose here. We all do. Determining what our purpose is requires soul-searching and finding those moments that bring absolute joy and peace. Often it seems easier to turn off the switch and focus on the expectations of others; to try to live within the boundaries set by family, community, our work places; to live a life as written by external forces. These may align with our self and our purpose at times. Growth comes at those times we are not aligned and in tune with the external. What doesn't feel right? Why? Where do you go from here? Answering these questions will move you toward finding your purpose.

- Circumstances change. My self doesn't. My self is an unchanging rock connected to the intangible. Your self is there for you to discover and rediscover, many times over. Standing up for your self, finding that connection, and knowing peace and joy is difficult. For some, it becomes too overwhelming and they spend their lives disconnected from their own self. We all know those people. We judge them or pity them or become angry with them. It is so very hard not to react to them. We grow tired of seeing them hurt themselves and others.  Knowing your self and knowing you are that rock takes times of confidence, times of pain, times of doubt, times of back-tracking, times of certainty. Each time I feel knocked down, discouraged, and in pain, I now know that my self is there on the other side, waiting for me to return. Yours is, too.

- My self is intimately connected to others. I have work to do to let them in, to accept them just as they are, to know the connection is sometimes painful and sometimes soul-feeding. We cannot function without allowing our people to be part of our lives. Finding common ground with those who are not aligned with our purpose is more than difficult; it can be impossible. There are those we know hurt our selves and it is okay to walk away from them. We live every day with people who don't support us, don't know or understand us (or even want to) that still must be a part of our lives. Finding compromises to interact with them is exhausting. Remember your own self is that rock. You are strongest in moments of weakness. My people keep me going, give me hope. Find your people. Let them in.

Winter will pass. The snow will melt. Green grass and leaves return. My self knows this. I've survived another winter, without and within.