thank you, personal growth

it hasn't been easy over here. it hasn't been easy for a lot of people. and very little indicates it will get easier any time soon. i don't know. it might be hard for you, dear reader, and maybe you don't want to talk about it right now. maybe you don't know how. i get that. it's scary. no doubt about it.

the silent telephones are the worst, aren't they? those long spells in between rings where you long for nothing more than to hear a familiar voice on the other end ask the question that is your soul's life line: "How are you?"

the power of validation in that simple sentence is everything in dark times. it says far more of your importance to the person asking than it does the answer you might give. it is an extension of giving of one's self to another, an offer at connecting. and when you're stuck in a dreaded space, it says you aren't alone nor nearly the social pariah you feel you might be.

dark days. and who knows when it'll get easier. that it will is something to look forward to. to reach for. to count on. especially when so much of what you thought you could count on seems suddenly to be misplaced. absent.

so, hold on to hope? sure. that works. but what about holding on to gratitude? for the silent moments where you can see all that you have right before you; hear your inner voice more clearly than you had before; recognize good, true and genuine connections and relationships; and fill yourself up by reaching out to that one person who least expects it, and ask, "How are you?"

i don't know that gratitude has to be attached to things. or to any one specific idea. sometimes it can be anchored in the simple state of just "being". wherever that is, however far it is, or dark it might be. just having the ability to reach out from the center of who you are, where you are, to anyone on the other side because you can while others either can't or won't.

that act of reaching out when you have every right to pull in is your way of saying to your god, the universe, "Thank you." for what? i don't know. for having the ability to do, to be, to give abundantly even though your coffers appear to be running a bit low, if not empty. for desiring the connection with someone else, to be for someone else that familiar voice of reassurance that says, "How are you? I'm here."

it's easy to feel alone. it's easy to feel swallowed up whole by this dark place. it's a time that breeds selfishness. stinginess. to restrict your vision to your own front door. self preservation seems instinctual in the absence of abundance. as does sulking. oh, do i know sulking.

but in the silent moments, when the phone is still, think of who might be on the other end. in the quiet void. waiting. take a chance. reach out. because you can. because it might matter more to them than you ever dreamed. and be grateful to the universe for the compassion it has inspired in you to give abundantly when your pockets are empty. because you can always give from the heart without breaking the bank. by just being.

how are you? i'm here. still. thanks be to God.