plenty of Room

“I hope when you come home to yourself, there are flowers lining the front porch

that were left by all the women you were before” – Marki Smith

My colorful and amazing artist friend, Jen shared this recently and I’m so thankful she did because it stopped me in my tracks and inspired me to write a letter to all of these women.

To the Women I was before,

I see you and I adore you all. I feel such immense tenderness towards each one of you. For all that you feared, tried hard to prevent, for the heartbreak you endured and mostly, I’m in awe of the extraordinary courage you displayed. Over and over and over again. The bravery it took to keep showing up and sharing your heart in the face of discomfort, uncertainty, and isolation.

You’ve always had courage and faith in us and in something that can’t be known, something greater and bigger. Thank you for learning to trust that.

I’m passionately proud of each one of you, of every stage and transition. Of every threshold crossed. I’m proud not only of what you’ve accomplished but of your failures. In fact, looking back, I’m prouder of how you messed up, said something stupid, fell and got back up. I smile when I look back at your ridiculousness, and your missteps as well as marvel at the miracles you were busy cocreating.

I’m grateful for every chapter that landed us on the page we’re on today. Here, with full hearts that are open and bruised and mushy and beautiful. Here with a life that I love surrounded by people who love me fully and that I love fully. No guessing, no games. Pure. Simple. Clean. Clear. Truth. Ease. And plenty of JOY!

To understand, to embody that this living is fleeting, fragile and so very precious. To not wait for the okay from someone else to live fully, to sow seeds of joy and love and light and hope.  To travel. And to not worry excessively about saying the wrong thing, looking like a fool or losing everything. To keep creating and expressing in the face of what if.

You’ve never let what if stop you from living life. And dancing forward, and I won’t either. This is my promise to you. To keep dancing in the midst of all the chaos.

Thank you for that.

You did this. We did this. And we will keep doing it for the women we were and the ones we will become. We will keep doing this for those who came before us and those who will come after. We will not take our being here, this glorious improbability and gracious miracle for granted.

Thank you.

I love you.

P.S.

I’m always here if and when any of you want to visit, I have plenty of room.