Every day I have a thought, I should write on my blog more. Usually smack dab in the middle of my mental to-do list between finding a place to board the dog for our next vacation and remembering to change the laundry when I get home. I pause for a moment and reflect on all of the things I want to share. I mentally write the first line of a post when I remember an idea I had last week and then start to write that one. And then I remember that I haven’t taken my phone out to jot down these fleeting statements running through my head. And that’s ok because who’d want to read them anyway. And what if they read them but don’t like them or don’t like me because of them. And I stop. I move my attention to the next item on the mental to-do list, with a feeling of defeat. And melancholy. And a hope that the next task is more easily completed. Just to have this one surface again a few days later and the cycle begins afresh. Over and over and over again. Until today.
Today I am choosing to take the 22 minutes I have alone while Phil picks up Charlie and Romeo sleeps in his carseat (Yes, I know about the dangers of using a carseat as a sleeping place for a baby - he’s sitting right next to me and he’s fine.) to write something, to share something. It’s not much but its proving to myself that it doesn’t take a perfectly polished, perfectly timed entry to be worthy of sharing. It just takes a little effort, a little vulnerability and a few clicks on a keyboard. Because maybe what I can share is what someone else needs to hear. And maybe it will make be feel better to take this small risk, to open my heart, to get into the arena.
If you’re wondering why today, it’s because Lara Capuano shared her story with a group at my job today. She made a point to note that her son allows her to share his story because it may help someone who has gone through what he goes through. And that really spoke to me and let me get out of the head and take this chance to push myself to act. So thank you, Lara.