A quiet conversation with a trusted friend—a blend of vulnerability, encouragement, and gentle nudges toward self-reflection.
Early mornings are when I often find myself wrestling with my thoughts—a common occurrence for someone who uses words as their muse and feels life deeply and richly.
I’ve realized that the more we put ourselves out into the world, the more vulnerable we become to life’s cruelties—the crab bucket mentality where others pull us down when we reach for more than they’re willing to dream of. Yet, it’s this very vulnerability that allows us to make waves, create impact, and contribute to the betterment of the world around us.
Fear of vulnerability often keeps me from sharing. Some of that fear is justified, serving as a healthy protection of my heart, mind, and soul. But some of it is a detriment, an excuse for not being bolder and not fully sharing the gifts I’ve been given.
Cheers to vulnerability. Flowers to my mentors, confidants, role models, friends, and idols who demonstrate—and wrestle with me—the togetherness, wholeness, and profoundly uniting power that lives inside vulnerability.
“What’s gotten you here won’t take you there,” my mind gently nudges as I wrestle and squirm to hold stillness. My thoughts travel to work, city council, relationships, and projects. Still, I fight to reserve space with my own thoughts and feelings. I’ve been running hard, and I’m not so sure that I’ve been taking care of myself in the process.
“Time is a scary thing,” bubbles up.
It plays tricks on my mind to think that it’s time that warps, bends, and shape-shifts. Time doesn’t do that. Time is finite, unchanging. What if I spent less effort fixated on time itself and turned my attention to what I do with my time?
In the stillness of the early mornings, my body finds rest, and yet my mind is alive. I weave between project management onboarding and training, systems and operations planning, business development ideas, and relationships. My thoughts dip into city council initiatives and holding myself accountable to serving well. I graze over all these thoughts without sinking too deep into any one of them just yet.
“Are these thought patterns OK?” I’m afraid to ask. I don’t want them to go away.
They say our biggest strengths always have a downside. I’ve grown in mine—I rest better. I’ve made progress.
I don’t want to fight this part of my mind. I love her. Her relentless pursuit of fresh ideas, new perspectives, better solutions, and more connections. It’s these thoughts that flow freely and without pressure.
I think of little me—she’d be proud and so incredibly impatient to see the woman I am today. She’d tell me, with stinging honesty, something along the lines of, “I was wondering when you’d figure it out,” and then trot away to a riveting adventure in the lilac bushes or turn her undivided attention back to the greasy jungle gym of loader parts, tools, and dirt piles.
The soft light of the sunrise holds me close as I pause for a long while. The subtle snores of the dogs at my feet and the ambient city sounds welcome warm, lumpy tears that slowly lumber down my cheeks before disappearing into the neckline of my sweatshirt. With a gulp of my now lukewarm coffee, my eyes ever so gently let loose the remaining emotional purge. These drops flow even more slowly than the last, perhaps heavy with knowing; freed by peace.
I’m equipped.
My mind is a gift, and I’ve beaten, bruised, and so desperately tried to give her back. And she’s not just a gift from anyone either. God gave her to me so gently, so easily. And while He planted His Holy Spirit in my heart, He waited for me to let the mind, body, and spirit forge this triumphant connection. Each time those connections spark, practice lighting each other up, it’s an addictive clarity. A revelation of who I’ve been created to be all the while I’ve stifled her with my insecurities, fear, and criticisms.
The playground I’ve afforded residence to the devil for far too long. I can feel him moving out. He’s been given notice, and he begrudgingly packs his bags. He’ll linger. I know that. Each passing an opportunity for his foothold to slip back deeper, yet the struggle seems to lessen with each attempt. Her confidence in her gifts beams brighter, and the devil’s strength fades. God knows He’s won this war—He needs her to live like it.
So He tells her, “A visionary you are. A dreamer you’ve always been. Let your mind wander free as it’s guided by your kind and pure heart. Trust yourself because you trust God and choose to live in the gifts He’s bestowed upon you.”
Receive life and others with grace. Practice active kindness.