Dang. It’s hard to type through tears. Happy tears, that is.
My notes are ready. I’m drinking hot water instead of my usual coffee. No point in making myself any more jittery. I’m reminding myself to take deep breaths. Mother nature cooperated by bringing us a big beautiful sunny sky. I feel brave and strong and even a little excited. Weird.
This feeling is reminiscent of the one and only time I ever jumped off the high board at swimming lessons. I wanted to climb back down that ladder so damn bad. I stood there forever, covered in goosebumps with my elbows pressed against my sides, and my hands tightly clasped under my little pointy chin. I so wanted to show everybody that I was brave, but really I was scared shitless. It took me forever to make the jump. I could feel my stomach climbing to my throat. I closed my eyes, counted to 10 (real slow) and jumped.
I didn’t die. It was exhilarating, scary, and fun. And it hurt.
I’ve never done it since. But, at least I DID it.
I wasn’t going to write a post before I went to the session. I’m ready, and I’ve nervous energy to spare, so here I am. And I realize that this is how I empty my cup. (Or take out the trash, depending on how you might view it.)
But more than that…
cue more tears here.
I cannot quite adequately express how thankful I am that so many have reached out to me in the last few days. Hell, in the last few years. I have to believe that my spine is stronger, not just because I finally realized I had one, but because of the support and encouragement from family and friends.
There is so much power in kind words. And strength.
And so transitive property works like this in my life today:
I have friends. Angels have visited me. Friends equal angels.
And when I look at the depth of character in all of you I am blown away. And, in a rather narcissistic fashion, I think to myself, I must be a good person if all of these outstanding people care about me.
You must know that I am prepared to be an angel in your life when the time comes. All you have to do is ask.
Or in Annie’s case, she’ll just sense that you need her.