I have, in recent days, been “this close” * thumb and forefinger a nano-hair apart * to shutting down my blog for good. “This is it,” I thought, and pondered a final posting featuring Kenny Loggins singing his song of the same name, amidst the soaring California redwoods (1993). I’m not yet putting out the “Closed” sign, but Kenny is here if the mere mention of his name awakens within you an indescribable Loggins Longing. (Yeah, you know who you are.)
Then, three things happened. (Well, actually more than three, but these seem most up for review.) First, a friend of mine ordered baby chicks and was looking for plans to build a backyard chicken coop. She didn’t want to sit at the computer, and asked if I had any such materials at my house, or at the small community library I have been birthing, or in the boxes of 6,000 additional books packed away at two locations in our tiny town. I found some books and magazines (without even cracking open one packed box), and when she gathered up the ones that spoke to her most, she declared me the “information broker” of our town.
And this pleased me greatly, in a deep and penetrating way.
Second, the arrival of the light. A new friend had visited recently and brought some pure beeswax candles (among other gifts of great delight). Then, several days ago, an old friend called somewhat out of the blue and asked if it would be all right to send me a gift of a beautiful candle from a shop we used to frequent. To which I graciously said, “Of course.” Then, the next day, someone called to ask if I wanted to receive the donation of a western-styled, contemporary chandelier for our local, nonprofit project. Naturally, I did. “Hmmmm,” I thought, “everyone is offering me the light.”
And this pleased me greatly, in a deep and illuminative way.
Barbara Marciniak’s book, “Bringers of the Dawn: Teachings of the Pleiadians” (also circa-early 1990s), has long been a touchstone for me. And of all the gems of wisdom and understanding contained within, I seem never to forget the very simple yet profound, “Information is light.” More than once, I have clashed with friends who perceived my hunger for information and truth as an uncomfortable probing or invasion. I suppose they never read the book.
Third, a newfound friend I met through the blogosphere sent me the link to one of the always-provocative and informative TED talks: this one, a 20-minute presentation by researcher/storyteller Brene Brown titled “The Power of Vulnerability.” I have just watched it, and laughed and cried and felt utterly seen and understood and inspired. Nod of the hat to KW for the tip, and kudos to Brene Brown, right here, who unflinchingly offers up her own courageous vulnerability. She is so engaging and deliciously authentic; the 20 minutes will fly by.
And, of course, this, too, pleased me greatly, in a deep and wholehearted way.
Which just goes to show you: As soon as you agree to lay down your pencil, there are untold dots to be connected. Just allow them to show up, like a photo developing in the darkroom. Give everything the time and space for which it yearns, and gently watch your old ways of struggle, trying, and desperation fall by the wayside. Embracing your own vulnerability is a very good place to begin.