....but not broken.
I am excited to report that with the money that I have raised so far I was able to order 150 pairs of children's underwear today in all sizes for both boys and girls. I can't wait to deliver them to Maine Needs next week.
Inspired by Dotty...I clipped a small branch from one of the forsythia bushes in the neighborhood and it's been sitting on my kitchen window sill for a few weeks. It opened up today....just the sign of hope and joy I needed.
I got a scam email late yesterday that rattled me to my core. I've gotten them before so I mostly know how to identify them....delete...and report them as a scam. But at first this one seemed like it could have been a genuine request for Words of Encouragement.I looked at it several times before finally scrolling down a little further finding clear evidence of scam linking my tag project to a charge that was going to be made to my Paypal account unless I immediately took action. I deleted and reported.
I cried for a bit...and was ready to just throw in the towel on everything last night. With so much chatter about people having access to our personal information out there right now....this felt more of a real threat than usual. And this time it also felt very personal. It felt like a low blow to a simple project of a woman with a glue stick trying to spread some words of hope and joy while doing something good for people in need,
I went to bed rattled...but with Paul's help...I gained perspective this morning. And after checking my accounts several times I know that everything is OK.
I am not broken....and I am not throwing in the towel.the power of spaciousness,
I command my heart, Stay open.
Stay open, I growl,
as it clenches and hardens
and granites and steels,
but my terrified heart
keeps clenching anyway,
tighter and smaller and stuck.
I said, Stay open,
my voice a demand,
as if with intensity
I could force a release.
And the heart curls in,
intent on survival, like a pill bug,
like an armadillo, like a heart
that has learned before
it is not safe to love.
And it hurts to be small.
And it takes so much energy
to clench, that finally
it’s exhaustion that helps me
to hear the softer voice
beneath the command,
the quiet voice that arrives
like the slightest of waves, the voice
that arrives like low morning sun,
and the voice enters the clench of me
like gentle rain meeting dry earth,
and it says, Of course, you’re afraid.
For now it’s enough to remember
the possibility of opening.
MaryAnn, vulnerability and resilience, fear and strength, the possibility of opening and the knowing that you are the mountain that remains the mountain. This was a powerful post.
ReplyDeleteI’m so sorry you were scammed, and am very happy you recognized it as such. Thank you so much for sharing the link to Rebecca’s entire essay—so powerful! And thank you for sharing Rosemary’s poem.
ReplyDelete