Take a Stand

My front door blew open five times today. It’s not particularly windy.

On the third time I said, Hi, Mom.

No, I did not feel an ominous presence or have the hair on the back of my neck stick up. Just had a feeling that today, as I moved forward in some difficult but necessary ways, she was wandering around.

I know I stirred her dust in the last few days. She would have HAD AN OPINION, to say the least. Since she’s dead I can pretend she would have recognized my leadership and willingness to say out loud the hard things.

To tell the truth. To take a stand. To believe in myself.

Last night I thought about a comment Cathy, on “Who Am I“ (9/16/07) wrote to me:

“Marianne Williamson wrote these words, and they reminded me of you when I first read them.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

Your playing small, doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't fee insecure around you.

It's not just in some of us: it is in everyone, and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Today? I didn’t play it small. Sure, my mother would have been mad about the content. But I also know, deep down? She was always proud of me, and maybe a little afraid, when I stood up, liberated.

It was something she could not do. Maybe today she was taking notes for her next life.

I let it shine today.

And I have to agree with Ms. Williamson, it’s pretty damn scary.