History is the humbling story of our misbegotten inflations. Truth is the corrective story of how we return to exactly who we are. Compassion is a never-ending story of how we embrace each other and forgive ourselves for not accepting our beautifully particular place in the fabric of all there is.”
~~Mark Nepo’s The Book of Awakening, entry for January 10th titled, “Akiba”.
As a child, I wanted to be many things.
Comedian, magician, ventriloquist, priest, rock & roll singer, guitarist, and artist with crayons or oil paints.
After my father passed when I was age 11, I believed I had to find a career that would help me create a reliable income stream. That led me to believe the dreams of my childhood were foolish, that I was not good enough at any of those things to make a living. All my childhood stuff of “artsiness” faded into a distant memory that I declared was not me.
Instead, I went to college and chose a career to create things of certainty — mathematics, structural engineering, computer programming, and the building of structures for databases and websites. Putting together these puzzles, I served the needs of companies that have hefty balance sheets. My working life created an income stream to build and support my family 3 precious children.
But when I turned 60, an age 1 year older than the age my father passed, I realized the Universe was giving me more years than he had. And what would or could I do with those years?
My Comparing and Competing instincts flared up when I happened to see a photo online of Lake Louise that was taken by my former boss. My thought was “If he can take a photo that good, so can I, and even better!” It pushed me to get a digital camera, and over the next 14 years I made about 46 trips to photograph the many beautiful natural (and structural) national parks and cities.
Now that I am retired, I have even more time to be “Exactly Who I Am.” Without worrying about money. Without comparing myself to others. To be completely who I am. I use my gifts in photography, humor, and web-building (structure) to share what I can now see is abundant in me.
May beauty bring you awe, humor bring you joy, and structure bring you peace.
In compassion, I embrace my gifts and forgive myself for the times of not accepting my beautifully particular place in the fabric of all there is.