I wish this for you.
I wish you follow what brings your heart joy.
That you discover what zings and zaps your spirit–and let that delight you.
Whatever it might be.
If you love taking pictures, take a million photos and allow your happiness to bubble up and spill over into your computer, your blog posts, your art shows, your gifts.
If you love writing, write up a storm, my friend! Let your delight sparkle like fireflies on warm dark August nights.
If you adore dancing–dance, dance, and dance some more! Don’t stay home on Saturday nights because you don’t have a partner and it’s too cold and you’re tired. Dance because it tickles your tender heart. Dance because your feet insist. Dance because we all need to kick up enough joy to make it through changing diapers, and dead-end jobs, and long afternoons of grief.
Don’t insist your joy be large and amazing. Joy can be small and sweet. Joy pats a baby’s back, picks daisies, finds new cheese at the deli. Joy walks up the dirt road or jogs by cherry blossoms in April. It can lead us through our days and nights if we but allow it.
Our minds will find a million reasons to convince us to squelch our joy. It will. You’ve experienced this, haven’t you? A new love ignites the heart, a burning fire of creation. You fall in love with a person, an idea, a story, a possibility.
The next thing you know you’re dousing your own fire with water. You’ll convince yourself that you’re not worthy, that you can’t sustain your passion, that you’re not good enough, that you can’t, simply can’t, do what’s needed.
Count the excuses your mind makes. They’re endless, aren’t they?
I am lucky, oh so lucky, to have discovered the passion of blogging four to five years ago. At first I was a scaredy-cat. Afraid to be vulnerable in public. Afraid to share from the heart. Afraid of my ever-blogging shadow.
Slowly, ever-so-slowly, I grew blogging wings. I wrote my heart out. I dared to say daring things. I dared to type scary sentences–and then entire paragraphs! My heart sang. The typing fingers danced.
Later I learned to click, click, click the camera and grew to appreciate photography. And I shared from the heart–what the heart saw through the camera lens. I allowed the camera to capture what interested me, what made the spirit shine, what shimmered in light.
I have never felt the same huge rushes of love which accompany writing a story when taking photos–but have enjoyed attempting to “see” more deeply and share with others. And it makes the heart sing when others appreciate the efforts, when others delight in reflected ducks and shopping carts.
Oh my friends–how I have adored blogging! It has felt like a gift from the heavens. It has felt like someone poured pure joy into this Little House in the Big Woods. The world opened up like a spiraling sharing and this heart has been happy.
No, no, don’t get me wrong, it isn’t always happy. Sometimes it fusses. Sometimes it blogging snarls. Sometimes it feels confused. I want to continue to share my vulnerability, my not-knowing, my humanity with you. To be more and more “real”. To not deny or suppress the very human emotions of grief, despair, sadness…in between ecstatic delight, joy, laughter.
Yesterday I did something wild & crazy. Yes, your blogger did!
I went into Facebook and created a page for Lake Superior Spirit. Have always felt a little uncomfortable linking my blog posts from my “Kathy” page, so here is a perfect solution! People who “like” can get the posts in their feed and others don’t need to see the regular postings.
It’s a win-win situation that doesn’t dilute the joy of sharing. If anyone wants to “like” this new page (if you have a Facebook account) please visit: https://www.facebook.com/LakeSuperiorSpirit
So excited about this new page that I got up at 5:20 a.m. Can you believe it when you’re that delighted about life?
Thank you for all your support!! I appreciate your accompaniment to my joy and truly, truly wish that you discover what ignites your passion, your heart, your delight. May each and every one of you follow that which interests you, which calls you like birdsong, what beckons you to follow.
What makes your heart sing?