I have always and forever been guided by strong whispers of the heart. I remember hearing them even as a very young girl. Throughout the course of my, now, 57 years of this life, I didn’t always listen to them. In fact, most of the time, I didn’t. Sometimes my own plan, my own lofty ideas worked…for a while. Always, the longer I would ignore these whispers and continue on my ego’s strong-minded path, the rug would eventually be pulled out from under my feet. The tower would topple. I’d find myself face first in the dirt.
During my few years in radio I had the honor of interviewing the (then) famous weatherman from Good Morning America (or one of those national morning shows? Who knows, that was nearly thirty years ago and I barely remember the movie title the day after I’ve watched it!) His name is Willard Scott. The radio station was WNN -an all motivation station. When I asked Willard what motivated him to reach his incredible success as a much loved weather man, he said something like this; “Every lofty idea I have had of my own put me flat on my face. I never set out to be the weatherman on Good Morning America (or whatever the heck show he was on). But, whenever I let go and followed (he didn’t mention what he actually followed), I would find myself in the most lofty places of all.” Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t put quotes around that, because if I can’t remember the movie title nor the actors names in a film the day after watching it, I may have his words a bit mixed up. However, the message was strong and stayed with me all of these years. And, if I ever think that maybe I dreamed this story up, I have a photo of him kissing my cheek and remember him telling me it was the best interview he has ever had. (ok. Maybe he just said it was a good interview. )
Did I follow Willard’s advice after this? No. Not always. But, whenever I did, however, whenever I listened to my heart whispers, to my invisible guides (Angels? God? Universe?), shoved my powerful ego aside and followed those whispers into the dark and uncertain, I’d find myself in some pretty cool places I could never have dreamed possible.
So, here I am. Now. Today. Compelled to write. To expose myself, with my strong ego aside, hopefully buried quite deep and out of the way–I have duct-taped her mouth, tied her hands behind her back and put her in my bedroom closet. Because this is a journal. Journals are supposed to be private, even hidden from your personal ego. I know this. I had a journal in 4th grade. A beautiful book with pink flowers and green leaves scrolled around the hard-covered edges. Inviting blank pages inside. And, it had a lock and key! Knowing this, there was freedom to write whatever lurks in the troubled mind of an ugly, buck-toothed, bone-skinny, frizzy-haired 4th grade girl. The third of a four girl family. The true middle child, because the first two were only two years apart separating me further from them with six years from the oldest and eight years from the last. Oh, yes, I had trouble to write and needed the freedom of the lock and key to be able to express myself without worry of judgement.
With that ugly 4th grader still inside me, I keep journals. There are still private journals but, we also have blogs. A private journal and a blog certainly should NOT be considered even in the same sentence. Yet, yesterday (because the heart whispers were more like heart yellings) I posted the first page of a journal. I listened, acted and POSTED it!
There wasn’t time for this. I was in the midst of preparing for my youngest son’s 18th birthday bon-fire party. But, I’ve learned about those dang whispers and I don’t ignore them any more. And, I’ve learned not to ask why. For the sake of this blog, though, I think that I should try to understand why, just a little bit, and to explain.
Over the past few years, my towers toppled, over and over again. I found myself developing a new habit of pulling on the pity strings. I think I was hoping for a knight in shining armor to be at the end of one of those strings. And, in the end I found myself facing one of the darkest, scariest and most devastating places any of us can imagine (and unfortunately, many people do imagine this place with an enormous fear). Do I have answers? Heck no. Am I the wise leader with great wisdom to share. Definitely not. Will exposing myself and family in the most honest and open way help anyone? Maybe not.
However, I hear the whispers. They (and my husband) say to put it up here. Say it in a blog. Share my story in the most raw and truthful way. Expect nothing in return. My only intention here is to share a true story of a family walking together through a very dark tunnel. I do see LIFE at the end of the tunnel. Maybe that gives someone else, who might be going through a similar dark tunnel, a little hope.
I can hope for that.