Years ago, I was inspired by my life coach and spiritual teacher to write. I started with journaling, then to writing essays and poetry. Next came a few short stories and a children’s story. Each writing seemed to hold some sort of life lesson, and I felt that the Universe wanted me to share my life, so that others might know they are not alone, and that maybe, just maybe, someone might read my writings and be inspired, moved or given hope and forgiveness of self by reading of my mistakes and trials and then the “Ah-ha moment'” that Oprah speaks of.
I decided that this was the way that I was going to make a difference in the world. And the best way that I could get my writings out there, I felt, was to get published. I started to send my work in to different publishers, and I spent hours and hours researching publishers and what they wanted. It was grueling work, but I felt it was worth it. Underneath my grand goal of changing the world, I admit was a little bit of ego. I mean, how great would it be to be able to say, “I am a published author.”
Rejection letter after rejection letter came in the mail or via e-mail. I lost steam and slid into the day to day. Without the encouragement from others that I had been receiving and after so much rejection, I decided that writing was just a hobby. Something to entertain myself. Something to do with all the epiphanies that rained down on me in the shower. And it was also a means to working out issues that revealed themselves in daily life – the spade that could chisel into the deep of my heart and soul.
I lost hope of ever reaching a large mass of people. I lost hope of changing lives. Maybe writing was just a way to change myself.
Then one day it hit me. I didn’t have to have the big shebang of a book deal to make a difference. I didn’t have to reach the masses to make a difference. Maybe by changing ME, I was changing the world!!!
I realized that if my niece stopped performing in small local plays, the brightness that she brought to my life with her talent would be missed. If my other niece stopped singing in church, my heart would not be moved by the depth of her song. If my mother stopped painting, if my brother stopped carving/building/repurposing;, if my daughter stopped photographing; if my husband stopped working out – all because they didn’t feel they were “doing it right,” achieving their ultimate dream, or making any money at it, or worst – if they felt they were not good enough – I would not have that light and inspiration that their creativity brings to my life and others’ lives. If my niece, Lydia Lengel, who wants to preach and teach her faith through Cru and change the world in a big way, gave up, because she isn’t doing it where or how she had imagined it, I would not have had the inspiration to write this piece. She wrote a piece that probably would not have even been birthed had she met her ultimate goal when she wanted to, and her writing inspired and supported me and reminded me to walk the walk. Be the bright spot in someone’s day. It gave me hope of purpose!
I think sometimes we all forget to appreciate the small things in life. Through the past few years, I realized that inspiration is like a cold germ. You give it to one person, and the next thing you know, they have given it to two. And the next thing you know – EVERYONE is hacking and coughing! But inspiration, kindness and light is a disease that is worth spreading – even if your name never appears in lights, even if you don’t end up where you think you were going.
Bloom where you are planted, and the roots of your soul will guide you to where you are meant to emerge.
If you would like to read about Lydia and her journey, here is her blog site: http://lydialengel.wordpress.com