Born Precious

Born Precious

This spring I wrote a letter of compassion to myself every Friday, on a normal day.  Somehow today wasn’t.  I don’t know what happened, but I tanked. I was down. Not finding a way to climb out.  The Friday before I had written, in the rawness of grief, a letter of gratitude.  Even grieving can bring gratitude. 

But today I busy filming a writing lesson for the Young Authors Faire while mom went with babysitter to the doctor. Then, I can’t remember what I did, because there simply was no point.  I felt particularly stuck with Mom and her mode of communications got on my nerves.  I just felt too low to do anything. That’s why there was no letter to myself. No compassion.

In the late afternoon,  I texted a friend, “I miss you.” I felt pathetic writing that. I wrote more about not finding the center, feeling lonely even though I live with mom, about putting myself on a diet, about missing work, even. [I’m retired]  My friend wrote back, as if she knew the really hard part.

You are the first and only person I know who invited a parent to live in forever.  That’s huge.  And it changed something important in me.

I love you dear one.

I responded, “Well, this little café’ talk let me flop on my down quilt and cry a little.  Sniff! Healthy tears. Grateful you see me, in the best light.

While you are in flopped mode you can look at yourself from the outside ad really see the lovely gentle, artistic hear who gives and gives…and gives, sometimes giving to hearts not able to return love in the same way. It’s very obvious to those of us around you…

I sent one emoji tear with a purple heart.

Yes, that’s it, Katy, continued, You are in it.  Let it pass through you cleansing and making room to refresh you, knowing how much you are treasured.  You know these are not just words. 

You were not born anything but precious. 

It’s hard for us to believe that.  Karmic the way the text broke even trying to put the words down. 

I wrote, “Born precious. Wow.  I’m so into the refreshment from your love and wisdom, I’m going to hop in the shower.  Thank you, Katy o’my heart.

PS:  Did you know that the term “May Day comes from French for m’aidez, for help me.  Thank you for your kind, generous rescue. 

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