Growth is an erratic forward movement: two steps forward, one step back. Remember that and be very gentle with yourself. ~~~ Julia Cameron
I just started reading, The Creative Life by Julia Cameron. Not because I have dreams of being an artist. Not because I have dreams of being a writer. But, because I have dreams. It seems I’ve written often about friendship and forgiveness and trust and healing. I’ve been searching my heart for some inkling of a coherent thought that isn’t muted by my own inner voice. The question I keep coming back to is this… what do you do if you know you’re worth the effort but tired of trying to convince the rest of the world of this fact? I think, for me, the answer is beginning to form… let go of old thoughts, let go of things I can not control, unsettle my toes and let the sand form a new mound for me to stand. Be gentle with myself.
I had the most wonderful conversation the other night with a few friends. We talked about hugs and the power of human touch and the therapeutic resonance of the human voice… the power of connection. Simple human connection that can propel us all towards a new day. This comment was made about that powerful feeling, “…each wave is just different enough to unsettle my toes”. It took me a while to still my mind after that discussion. I continued to process the information and how I thought about it and how what the others said made sense to me in my life. I fell asleep, finally, smiling… my thoughts lingering on my friends.
As I drifted off to sleep, I felt my dream-self being transported to the beach. I was sitting there with a friend, faceless, both of us… our identities concealed in a foggy dream. We were talking and laughing and crying and digging our toes into the ever-changing sand along the edge of the water. It was just cold enough to need a jacket, the sun was setting — the sky was vivid purple and pink. I’ve had this dream before, it always seems so real. I never remember what we’re talking about, it’s as if our voices are muffled. A hushed conversation that only the dream version of ourselves are allowed to hear — but I distinctly remember turning to my faceless friend and telling her to open her eyes and see me. Then I awoke.
There was a girl I worked with for years who loved reading about dream interpretation. Whenever I had a dream I could remember I would rush to her and tell her the dream and ask, “… so, what do you make of that one?” She always said that the people and places in our dreams are secondary to the feeling you have when you wake up. She told me to write down what I was feeling when I awoke from a dream. Then, you could piece together what the subconscious was trying to tell you.
When I awoke from this picturesque dream of the beach, I felt anger that immediately turned into a sort of heartache which immediately turned into a sense of longing which soon gave way to a wave of warm connection that kept me tucked under my covers for a few more minutes.
It seems it all came full circle back to that conversation from the night before — the power of human connection. The power to lift our friends and carry them when needed. The power to hold a hand when it reaches for you in the dark of a dream. The power to open your eyes and see.
Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things because we’re curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths. ~~~ Walt Disney
I think we’re all intended to go down new paths, if we’re evolving. Personal evolution is just that… personal. You think it has occurred or is occurring and maybe those around you are blind to it. I thought, for a while, that this was because perhaps what I thought was evolution was just my wheels spinning. But… I believe that I’m spinning my wheels in hopes that those around me, those I care about, are evolving too. Personal evolution can be measured in the baby steps or the giant bounds we take. It’s scary to un-stick your feet and point them in a forward direction, it’s more scary to be stuck in a moment — a moment that doesn’t exist anymore. A moment filled with words and thoughts and people who don’t exist anymore. Personal evolution.
The death of a loved one is a powerful thing. We miss. We long. We cry. We yell. We wish for an outcome that might have given us just a bit longer to linger in the warmth of their touch. But, in the end, we pick ourselves up and we move on. We continue in our forward progress because there is no point in lingering in the solace of the death of that lost human connection. We don’t search for replacements for our mothers or our fathers or our grandparents or our cousins or our friends who have died. You don’t replace someone with whom you shared such a strong connection. Death took them. It’s easy, no gray areas.
Death can sometimes be the easiest way to lose someone. You recognize the vacant spot because a person use to be there and you’re okay with the emptiness of it because they’re gone, gone from this world. There’s a reason you no longer share the connectivity of a hug or the warmth of their hand to hold. You miss it and you long for it and you cry for its absence but you understand why. You understand that death is the reason… not because you aren’t worth the effort or you aren’t good enough — death then, brings you comfort. I think… I hope, that personal evolution involves knowing we are just enough.
We were made to lift each other up. We were made to cheer each other on. We were made to be angry and loathsome and helpful and kind and connected — we were made to share the simplicity of the human connection… we were made for this complicated ride amongst the breaking waves. The only thing I need to prove is that I am reaching my hand out in the dark of a dream, I am opening my eyes to see, I am connecting. So, with each new wave, I am unsettling my toes just enough to let the sand build up — just enough to recognize the stronghold of a simple connection. My eyes are opening — we are all just enough, with nothing to prove.
A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature ~~~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
Check out this: Love Letter To The World
First Pages 
Becky… just wonderful… we each have our path to walk, they may all end in at the same place… but the best part will be sharing the wonders we find along the way…so glad I came this way :~)
I love this thought from you June — as I love all your thoughts!
I am so glad you came along and continue to come along this way.
Thank you for that!
I commented recently to a twitter friend that losing my fiance to death was easier than the break up I was going through. I think she thought that was sad or strange. But the loss by death is not their choice (rarely by suicide) and they aren’t leaving us willingly and they are not rejecting us. The difference to me is enormous. Richard died in 1986, and I still think of him very often, with softness and gratitude that he was in my life for as long as he was. There’s no damage to my self-worth, no feeling of betrayal, no shattered heart. A place in me that will never be filled by anyone else because it contains the memories of him.
“Growth is an erratic forward movement: two steps forward, one step back.”
My motto is just try to keep moving, even if it’s one step back or sideways or even in a circle. If we stop moving we will stop evolving. Not moving is a decision in itself.
A wonderful article, b. I’m definitely going to want to come back and reread it a time or two. I always pull more out of your posts if I reread them. Focus on the awesome. Be gentle, kind and forgiving of yourself. And know there are SO many people who love you and you don’t have to prove your worth it to any of us. *Hugs full of gratitude for your friendship (and the Mickey Mouse ears)* Much Love.
Ha! Mickey Mouse ears in deed.
Thanks Dani.
I felt a sense of righteous indignation with this one. As with a lot of my “stories”, a conversation sparked this train of thought.
I just started the Julia Cameron book — I actually read books like this all the time, my problem is settling in to a literary book.
Thank you!
What a wonderful post Becky!
Reading your post made me think of the lost connection with my uncle, how we have no idea where he is, or if he’s still alive, since he left in 2002.
Thinking of him always brings afore what a huge difference simple connections can make.
Wow, that’s such a sad story. There was a girl in my neighborhood that disappeared when I was younger — it was strange, she was just gone and we all went about our business. But still, I think about her often even though I didn’t know her at all.
The power of human connection is just that… power.
Thank you!