I would like to have an impact on the world. I would like to look back on my life and see how I made a difference. A big difference in helping shift our world to be more kind and collaborative. To aid in healing people who will then heal the planet including nature and our communities. To have countries less focused on war and more focused on healing, on working together so that we all feel safe and have space to be ourselves.
No small goals for me. How far am I in this lofty goal? No where.
It’s depressing to look around and feel the helplessness when faced with these overwhelming tasks. I don’t know the steps to even make a small difference in helping the planet and people to heal. I don’t have the technical skills to be in a healing industry.
I teach accounting. That is not particularly healing.
I was reading a piece again using a prompt to imagine myself on my deathbed and answer the question “How is the world better because I lived in it”.
As I sit with that and imagine how I want to feel in that moment. I think I actually want to feel a sense of peace with how acted in my everyday interactions. Those are the most powerful in my immediate environment. Maybe I can’t or won’t be able to change the big world. But I can change my small world. I can focus on making the people I come into contact with everyday feel heard and valued in some way.
I’ve read all this before. Maybe I wasn’t ready to hear the message? I’m not sure what it is. How this shift never occurred before within me. I thought I was getting all the messages of how to bring more fulfillment and purpose to my life. But I’m realizing I was stuck on these things being external goals. Steps I would follow and work my way towards these goals.
I seemed to always be spinning my wheels. I have a good job, two kids, and a marriage. Check, check, check. But fulfillment and purpose? Not so much.
I can’t will those into place without looking inside. Doing the work to heal my own disconnection. I need to make myself feel heard not to the world outside me but for myself.
When I look back on my life, I want to look back on a life that I lived with a sense of kindness and connection that I felt within and shared with my small world to change this world a little at a time. That this could be enough.
I need to reread about highly sensitive people. Today I’m tired and I’m sure that reduced my coping skills. My daughter was wearing me down today with her constant chatter and demands to play with her.
My son (Big E) had a hockey birthday party to go to today. He hasn’t skated since last winter but was game to go to this party. It was with a few kids from his class. It was at a larger multiplex arena I had not been inside before so we went early to scope it out as my husband was sleeping (he’s on night shift right now).
My son is also highly sensitive. In the past he has had a hard time with some activities but he’d been to this same kid’s skating birthday last year so he was ok. I dressed him up and made sure he made it out onto the ice ok. He fell a few times but looked like he was having fun. My daughter who was still challenging with her chatter and whining to go (arg whining drives me crazy). We headed off to McDonald’s for some fries for her and so she could play a little.
When I arrived back he was already in the dressing room having taken off his skating gear and seemed sad. There was still cake and the party room so we didn’t have a chance to chat right away. And is it just me or is talking with other mom’s and dad’s often awkward and just feels like so much work. I feel like I’m friendly enough but engaging other parent’s in small talk is not my idea of a good time. At all.
Once home, my son finally told me that he was hit twice with a puck and had a tender bump above his knee. Poor guy. I gave him an ice pack and he seemed in good spirits.
We were all tired today. I really, really dislike time change. Whoever came up with that idea, did not have kids. We were all tired and ready for bed today.
I’ve been reflecting and I know it’s my sensitivity showing. I just feel that interactions could be so much easier if we all had intentions to be friendly and kind. Why does it feel so difficult? Are we really doing our best? That is always my default saying and my thought normally. I think for the most part we are all trying to do our best to live good lives. But after interactions like today and over the last couple of years, I really wonder, our we really doing our best?
Stories can be amazing, truth-telling, gut-wrenching, real, connecting, sad, inspiring, funny, relatable, revealing, raw, vulnerable, strong.
Stories can also be fake, manipulative, cold, controlling, deceptive.
What stories do we tell about our selves, to others and to ourself? What stories do we hear from or about others? Are they amazing and real? Or are they deceptive and fake?
What are we basing our whole belief system on, how are we judging others? Are the stories we hear real?
We can only know if we open our hearts and listen. Our hearts know the real story if we listen closely.