I have been noticing the self-created distance happening between myself and my world.

Not beating myself up here.. just observing.

There have always been two distinct parts of me vying for airtime; the VERY private woman who thrives on and steeps herself in the kind of solitude that feels full of life,

…and the woman who finds the world and all it holds, unbearably beautiful and wants to be IN IT and splash around and hear people’s stories and brush away a tear and have an opinion and speak her truth, and catch some innocence out of the corner of her eye.. or some courage, maybe.. or arrogance or humility..


But somewhere along the line I got my guard up.

And I can’t seem to get it down.

I am so very sensitive to the energies of the world at large and all that includes that I get quite exhausted exposing myself to it all.

And inside that truth is another that reads something like: “I just need time to figure this whole body disintegration thing out so just leave me alone until I can put enough pieces of this thing together so it seems like I’m on top of this bear.”

I’m not used to being SO EXPOSED.

I don’t like it.

But when I have lost the energy it takes to withhold the truth from others and myself, I open the door again and make amends to various loved ones and forgive myself for every innocent action and thought even if I imagine it reflects poorly on me.

For the deal is that NO ONE knows how a challenge like this might rest on them until you feel the weight.

In each and every moment there is the choice to collapse or rise to it.

Seems as though when I pull it together to begin again, there is often a big, giant and compassionate hand at the ready to help bridge that sometimes unthinkably broad river between grit and grace.

It has appeared so often for me that I am beginning to TRUST it will always be there… almost as the reward for my reach.

Something like: “WELL DONE, Cath…  You are seen and valued.  Here’s something to ease your heart…”

And then… I get up…and go on.  (With help)


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