I’ve made a commitment to share my fears in hopes that there is some thin veil of a lesson. How easy it is when I share from retrospect. It’s censored. It’s safe. However, I’m not a fan of safe. How can I grow if I stay with what is comforting rather than what challenges me? Oh, yah, I can’t. So, here I am sharing my thoughts and experiences as I face my greatest fear, the death of my mother, my best friend and most certainly, a soulmate.
I remember the moment that I truly realized how mean I was to myself. Granted, I always knew that I was self-destructive, but for some reason, I failed to connect the dots in regards to what that meant. It was my first retreat to Bodega Bay with my community service group. There were more than 30 girls in a single house, all of us connected by a desire to help the children in our area. We laughed, played games, worked on business for the following year, and discussed issues that our club was facing. I felt close to all and bonded with a few.
I have been told that one should avoid religion and politics at all costs in your blogs, yet I’m a rebel! (Insert maniacal laugh here). No, really, I’m just kidding. “The God Pile” is actually just a phrase that I use for boundary lines.