I’m very excited to again this week join a talented group of women bloggers in an online, unedited flash mob free write. Week after week, these women produce insightful and inspiring posts based on a word-prompt given to us by our fearless leader Kate Motaung (whose wonderful blog can be found at katemotaung.com). My timer is set for 5 minutes; let’s see where the word “path” takes me.
Confession may be good for the soul, but it’s embarrassing for many of us, including myself.
Pride and fear keep me from sharing honestly sometimes, particularly if the sharing is going to make me vulnerable or expose failure on my part. So, I confess, I am often succumb to pride and fear.
But today, I’m shucking off both to share that I have in some ways been on the wrong path for quite some time.
I’ve spent a large part of my life going my own way, following the path that seemed right to me, that I believed would allow me to have the things I thought I needed, the things I wanted — usually not for me, but for my loved ones.
In other areas of my life, I’ve been on the right path, but along the way I found a really comfortable spot — a carpet of grass bathed in sunshine, warm but with a gentle breeze, the sound of a nearby gurgling creek, and no bugs or flying insects. And I’ve stayed put.
Much of that staying-put time, I’ve been content sharing my comfortable spot with others. When alone, I’ve reached into my tote and pulled out some beloved time-passers.
And there, in my comfortable spot, I’ve waited for things to come to me.
Another big mistake.
In recent months — and certainly more so in recent weeks — I’ve become less and less satisfied here in my comfortable spot. I’ve been looking around me.
I’ve spent a little time looking at the path behind me, the path that brought me this far, but primarily I’ve been looking the other direction.
And the more I look, the more I realize that I don’t want to stay on the path I’d been traveling. But I don’t want to stay in my comfortable spot, either.
I can see the first few yards of a couple of paths. I even hear the voices of different people in my life off in the distance, down each one.
But I can’t see where any of those paths go. Not exactly. Beautiful vegetation and a bit of a haze keeps me from seeing very far at all.
That’s a bit scary.
Even scarier is that, after those few yards, I can’t see the paths themselves. I don’t know the terrain of any of them. I don’t know what obstacles I’ll find along the way. I don’t know how each path twists and turns or how many forks I’ll encounter that lead me to further choices in path.
That’s also scary.
But it’s time. It’s far past time, in fact, for me to stand up, ignore my grumbling muscles and the “don’t go” voices in my head and the fear. It’s time for me to follow a new path.
Goodness, but these first steps are hard.
But oh so exciting, too!