Sometimes if we ask ourselves the right questions, they can propel us forward instead of sinking in our personal mud holes. I asked myself this morning what can I do. What can I do not to slide backwards? What can I do to become the person I will like? What can I do to be a positive instead of a negative? What can I do? What can I do?
What can I do? was my echoing cry. Not much really. I am not capable of gigantic leaps or heroic deeds. I am helpless and hopeless amidst the shakers and movers of the world. I am but an inchworm inching along life’s path. I am unseen among the shining stars on the world’s stage. So I pound my chest and ask, What can I do to matter?
I hear no answers. There is but dead air. So I scratch my head and think for myself. I have to matter to myself. The next question is what matters to me? What brings a smile to my lips? What makes me feel generous? What makes me want to give of myself? What makes me feel soft and kind inside? What makes me cry? The questions bring more questions. They are stirring the pot within. I feel the broom going round and round inside. Answers swirl within, some articulate and some not. I am not yet prepare to see and acknowledge them.
I have always felt so urgent at fixing things – as if I must. As if my life depends on it. Now I am questioning myself. Does anything need fixing? And is it my job to do so? Can I just leave things alone? I can. I can let the pot full of questions sit and simmer for awhile. Let them answer for themselves. That is what I can do.