Warriors Sometimes Wonder...How did we get here?

I communicate with Connor's dad, Steve, quite a lot. He has become a dear and trusted friend. He is a man with no intentions beyond being my life long friend. That's not easy to find when you are left on your own. You'd be surprised how many times I've been disappointed by those with ulterior motives. These let downs, however, have made the true blue friendships all the more treasured. With anniversaries looming and Wrestlemania approaching Steve and I were communicating about life and death; grief and healing. I sent him a bit of my philosophy that later felt like the whisper of a blog. I think the genesis of my sharing how I see the world was the question of how we got to the place we are today. I answered Steve... "It is part of the beautiful mystery of life. It's part of the tragedy too. I like to think we know the answers, then when we are born forget them...it's our job to get them back in our lifetime. ...I think it's what makes certain people we meet instantly important and sacred...it's like we recognize them on a soul level...like 'ohhhh! There you are... I recognize you...without knowing it..I've been looking for you.' Some stay...some we lose...or so it seems. Nothing is ever really won or lost...although it feels that way. Mostly we are tasked with finding the beauty in what seems to have none. It's our job to be find diamonds among the rubble.". Steve told me he found my philosophy beautiful. He is so kind with praise of my words. Writing is my most personal expression of the true me so validation from you Warriors and those in my close circle means the world. I have written from my earliest memory. I made books out of folded paper bound with staples, paste, yarn, or ribbon. I entered stories in school book fairs. My first recollection of what accomplishment and pride felt like was seeing a gold foil ribbon sticker on the book I'd entered as a second grader. I wish I could recall the premise of my story, I remember only the protagonist was a tulip called Tessie. In my mind's eye I can see the illustrations drawn in (pink) 🌷 crayon. Something in me, even then, remembered words were my vehicle for expression. Warriors...what is it you need to "remember" on your mission here? I do not believe our lives are random or those encountered inconsequential. What is the assignment of your soul? Not every moment of living is plotted to be easy. It's rarely in the ease we expand, learn, or grow. Hardship is preparation. Every single difficulty I've faced prepared me for the catastrophic loss of my husband. I now thank the hardships for the lessons gleaned because I was equipped for the unthinkable when I was hardly able to think at all. If you feel lost and rudderless you are not alone. Every soul amongst us has wandered. My encouragement is to move, at any speed possible, in the only direction of life...forward... Always, only, forward. The past is death and living there isn't living at all. We each have contributions tattooed upon our spirits. These gifts, singularly ours, are vital to the world. We are individuals on separate tasks. We must resist the urge to compare our life to another's. We are born alone, we die alone, we live out our true mission alone. We are kept company in life by fellow travelers but not many, past our soulmates, have a vision of the greatness so singularly our OWN!! Ask yourself today, "What is it I love?"...and "If I could wiggle my nose and make a life exactly as I'd want, how would it look?". It is important to draw those pictures in your head the way I long ago drew Tessie. Clear intent yields clear outcome. Vacillation is a vicious, circuitous loop. Guard the petitions of your heart with care. Others might dissuade you from your goals and dreams. Along with malice, jealousy, and fear others are not always supportive of grandiose goal setting. Another's small thinking is none of your business. Never be discouraged by an opinion and never become dependent on outside favor. Stay in your lane running the race of life. Looking left or right on the track is lateral movement and loses forward momentum. Choose every day to stare your goal in the eye so it sees you sprinting toward it. I believe we are actually all writers. I believe we are the authors of our lives. I believe we can script ourselves into the roles we began to forget at birth. I believe when our final breath breathes, and our last heart beat echoes, as warriors, we won't ask "how did we get here?". I believe we will know how we got to parts unknown since we completed the book, turned the final page, and smiled with satisfaction knowing, in the history of life, our story will be remembered as a good one..Always. xo📚d PS💘 Thank you Maria, for always inviting Mattie into your home. You are a Warrior Mom; proof is in the light of your beautiful children. Thank you Denise, for being Indy's welcome home committee in my stead. No better person for the job! You NEVER fail to show up!! Thank you Alisha, for being in my home so the girls' lives stay grounded and so my fur babies are happy. I love my gummy bear necklace. It's everything:))) Never underestimate the power of the family you make for yourself. Warrior Women Rule! xo💗d✨ 

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