I am awake, I am alive, and this morning I am smiling as I give thanks for yesterday’s teaching, a reminder of the importance of telling our stories, not just to educate others but to enlighten ourselves as well.
Case in point – yesterday, I shared a story from my teen years, how each year in our small little town a festival and how a huge component of that festival was the crowning of the Queen.
Each year, prior to the celebration, three young women competed, with the crown being awarded to the one who sold the most raffle tickets. It was a true coming-of-age event for the young women of Hudson. Running in the contest meant you were a young woman starting out on your own life journey and I could not wait until it was my turn.
And it came. That year my best friend was running as well. We made plans to canvas together, that is until I asked my Mom for permission to run.
In her mind, my Mom’s role was to protect me from a country that had little concern or respect for a young Nish girl. I will never forget the moment she denied my request, sharing how she didn’t want me to be disappointed when I lost so she wasn’t allowing me to run.
(With adult eyes, I now understand how my Mom feared that no one would buy tickets from a young Nish girl, that the town would never crown a Nish girl Queen. I understand the birthplace of her logic. I forgive her … now.)
It was at this point in the sharing that I realized where my fire was born – how a challenge and/or a contest remains my greatest joy, how I never let the fear of disappointment stop me simply because it did once.
That is my story and my revelation. Today my friend, take this entry as a reminder to tell your stories to your children and grandchildren, to friends over tea, to the man or woman next door. You may be surprised what they reveal … to you.
I love you! HUGSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS