I’ve been thinking a lot about my personal and career work and how I can fit into making a difference in the world. It’s hard not to feel despair and that nothing I do will matter. But the truth is if we all just focused on making our much smaller parts of the world better that together we would make a difference.
It is so hard to stay in that mindset. I’ve never really written down my goals before or maintained a planner in the sense of planning ahead. I’ve only ever used a calendar for keeping track of appointments and writing in events and now trying to put down more memories.
I’m starting to see though as I em entrenched firmly in my mid-forties that I do manage to get things done, remember to make appointments, and can use my planner to look back at past events but I feel exactly like that. I’m focused on getting through my days but I’m missing a sense of connection to others and a connection to a greater good. Am I making a difference? Where am I going?
There is so much information on creating desired feelings, finding purpose or passion, doing year-end reflection and planning. I so want to do that but feel like there is no point that I don’t have enough going on to worry about writing it down. Although as I think of memories so easily forgotten. Cute things that my kids say that I think I will remember and don’t. I get down on myself for not doing a better job of documenting, planning, and just writing things down.
A blank page always feels futile to me. What should I write? I have always envied those that can write, draw, journal, doodle, put anything on a page! As I write this I wonder if it was growing up not feeling heard, being afraid to speak and therefore it was always stuffed down inside.
As I write these words, and they start to tumble out of the swirling mind I have, that is exactly it. Nothing I have to say was important and therefore I should not say anything. Keeping it all inside has been part of so many difficulties. A contributor to an auto-immune disease I’ve had since my teenage years, over-eating, sugar, alcohol, and depression.
I have an exploding feeling of wanting to help the world, my world, my community, those who I can reach with these thoughts. What would the world looked like if we allowed ourselves a voice. That it doesn’t have to be about big injustices (those so need to be heard and are coming out now too by many brave women) but that we can change the world by allowing ourselves to speak from our own hearts.
As I’ve written this it’s like an understanding wells up as my words come out and that there was no other access. I can get to the understanding through thought. I’m sure this is the art, music, and words that so many others have known so long. My next task is to not be down on myself for taking so long to figure this out.
To allow myself to just speak.
To keep writing.
To start writing and allow the understanding to come up.
To hope that in doing so you can also find your way to your voice and to a moment of connection within that has always been there buried in the depths.
This feeling of connection is small but it is the seed that we all need to stop feeling so lost and alone.