Day 28 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. The end is near and what is it that I’ve learned from this challenge?

  • that I still love words and pictures and the things they tell me
  • that I still tell some stories over and over and that I need to tell myself new ones
  • that I am fulfilling my goal of having this writing space – tracing and understanding the archeology of my time on earth.

I don’t know why that it is that I hold on to the negative narratives more than the positives. Why it is that I admire others so much and think so little of myself? Does not having a physical father present in my early years make a difference? And how about being a minority from age 6 to adulthood? I have had a double sense of being invisible and very visible at the same time. I have had the sense of being very small and standing out like a huge sore thumb. I’m using the past tense – have had – because I don’t feel like that anymore. But I am sure that child/young adult still resides in me.

It’s really too late to change my history, my paths through time. But it is not too late to accept and take comfort in that I did the best I could. I can accept that maybe it is the rites of passage. I don’t have to cast blame in any direction, inward or outward. If I could go back in time, I would tell my 16 year old self that being imperfect is part of the human journey. We can’t grow from a perfect end place. Don’t worry too much about making a wrong decision. Life is not black and white. It’s not about right and wrong. Some things/decisions are better than others. Wisdom is learning to make detours and corrections as we go along. Most of all, I would tell my 16 year old self to love herself unconditionally, to think more of herself and less of others. Let go of things that doesn’t serve her. Time and energy are finite.



I’m feeling like a fetus in the womb, warm and safe.  And I am not ready to come out any time soon.  And if I could sing, I would croon myself a lullaby .. to send me off to dreamland.  Hushabye, don’t you cry….

It is alright.  I can cry even if I am a big girl.  It’s a sign of being human, vulnerable and brave.  And it is some sort of rites of passage.  I would want to mark it in some sort of way, even if it is in some sort of paralysis.

I have forgotten that I am a living organism of cells and protoplasm.  I am made of energy.  I breathe, feel and react.  I have lived years in the world according to rules, regulations and protocols.  Now all that is switched off.  How shall I live then?IMG_5374

Now is a good time to pause, to let all the tremors, doubts, fears and other bogeymen run through my body.  Let them come, one by one.  Let them sweep me clean of all malevolence.  Let me get to know the woman who is still in me…..the woman of hope, joy, laughter, love……waiting to be born again.