I’m sitting at my computer on this rainy spring morning sorting through emails, most of which are garbage, but like that feeling of self-importance that I experience when I receive 25 messages just for me. I really ought to unsubscribe from most of them and simplify my life, but bulk deleting promotional emails is cathartic and doesn’t require much space in my brain so that I can ponder other things.
I have certainly been pondering a lot lately.
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Oops, I got lost for a second there. Some large black birds--ravens?--are having some battle outside my window. I can’t tell if they’re chasing each other in threat or play. Maybe they’re dancing or hunting as a group. Little birds flutter around them, too. There’s drama in the pines this morning, but the scene has dispersed in the time I took to write about it.
My thoughts are like that, too. I have big thoughts chasing each other around. Thoughts about innate gifts and talents, how to develop them, what big steps I should consider to move forward on achieving goals, how those potential life changes would affect our family, and on and on. And then there are the little thoughts. Not connected. But there. What should I make for dinner? Did I switch the laundry already? Where did our fifth grader’s trombone go, and how does one lose such a large instrument? Should I do something about the snugness of my pants or accept the bonus weight as common in late middle age?
And then, this thought: “Oh, it’s my day to write my monthly installment of Letters from the Nest.” Usually, I have been thinking about what I might share. This time? Nothing. I have no ideas except those dashing and diving raven-like thoughts surrounded by fluttering little bird thoughts. When I try to focus on them and figure out what’s really going on, the scene disperses. I don’t think I have invested enough mindful effort to write cohesively about what I’m thinking, but since you may want to know one day, I will try.
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I have formulated and reformulated, written, and rewritten. Still, my thoughts are too abstract and unsettled to share. How about a list instead? Just some things I think I know, beliefs I have, glimpses into my psyche, a gush of intuitiveness, a brain dump.
I have certain gifts and talents that I can develop.
Sometimes, I seek out experiences to develop, and sometimes, I learn new proclivities as I stay open to offers to serve and stretch myself.
Growing is uncomfortable.
Not growing is uncomfortable.
I expect that people who truly love me want me to achieve my potential and will understand there will be difficulty along that path.
Because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I can be better and do better. Mistakes do not define my potential.
I feel moments of gratitude permeating my life: our home and family, the beauty of the earth, opportunities for laughter.
I recognize I will experience sadness, despair, confusion, and other uncomfortable feelings as I grieve life changes and losses--especially related to the things I’m most grateful for.
I know that when people aren’t showing up at their best, they’re usually in pain. I want to help ease that pain and help people recognize that joy and healing are possible.
I want to show up for our children when they are in need--now and when they’re grown with their own families.
Helping people recognize and experience healing sometimes means experiencing pain along with them--mourning with those who mourn.
I wonder if I’m brave enough, wise enough, open enough.
I know I’m not enough without God’s help, but He is there and willing. I need to let Him in.
Truth, goodness, and light outshine the dark, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t ever dark moments.
I worry about Elder Eyring’s thought, “When you find who you are, you will be sorry you didn’t try harder.” Who am I? Am I trying hard enough?
Introspection and self-awareness are important tools for achieving potential, letting other people see/know our true selves, and letting them help us change for the better.
The foster care system is a mess. I’m sad about all the pain and abuse children experience.
The pain in the world can be overwhelming sometimes, but if I believe in opposition in all things, I can also expect overwhelming joy and peace.
I know there’s more. But for now, all of this brain dumping is making me sleepy--that or early-morning seminary. On with the day! Be brave, work hard. You are loved deeply.