The muses were uncharacteristically quiet as Henny and I trudged through another snowfall.
I juggled a few thoughts as dense as the heavy, wet white beneath my feet.
Today I shall talk about the muses, instead of unleashing them to talk about me.
Yesterday I was invited to a Zoom meet-up in which the topic was Longing. Six women talked about a word—a feeling— I have given precious little thought.
L-O-N-G-I-N-G: a strong feeling of need or desire for someone or something
One new friend shared that she once participated in a workshop where participants were given post-it notes and instructed to write down their desires. When she said she couldn’t think of any, I found myself sitting right with her in that conference room chair.
I have long given desire and longing a bad rap.
Who was I to want anything for myself?
And yet, looking at the fibers of me, desire and longing are present…hidden under sweatshirts, parkas, warm socks, and boots.
Another new friend shared she is longing for the courage to be weird.
Yup, you read that right…the courage to be weird.
She works with horses, and people, and movement—movement that apparently isn’t mainstream. She is learning that movement and connection to our bodies has real potential to help others…and yet, it’s weird.
What if weird is a nasty way of saying embracing your gifts?
And me…what do I desire?
The freedom to be me. The freedom to embrace my gifts. The freedom to share those gifts with the world. The freedom…to be weird.
In May it will be five years since I started putting words to page at 100 Naked Words.
For much of that time I hid my weird from family and friends, worried that judgement would snuff the tiny flame I’d been tending.
I mean…it is kinda weird to name the voices in your head after Greek muses and then to allow the trio to spill your thoughts for anyone to see, like a gallon of milk dropped and burst on the grocery store floor.
Here’s the thing…doing so hasn’t killed me. My life is richer and fuller than it has ever been. I am going to publish a book—a book!
It was when I stopped judging the weird in others, and embraced it in myself, that I started down the road to freedom…my longing.
I can’t trace where I read this question…and apologize for a lack of attribution. I have been carrying it in my pocket…what do you think…?
What might the world look like if people stopped being afraid of their experiences?
P.S. I watched Stranger than Fiction over the weekend. Not only does it have a smashing cast…it is filled with wisdom…about embracing life. The film also gave me the title for today’s letter. ;)
Gail, "Your" voice, (i.e., not the muses) caught my eye this morning, and I'm so glad it did. To me, being weird means being yourself, which means embracing not only your gifts, but your (my) less-than admirable qualities. As for longing--right now, a beach in the sun. (And I'm not really a beach and sun person!) But the coolest thing I see is that you are publishing a book! What have lots to share...I haven't forgotten about you...