It’s 8:41pm and I remember that I haven’t had dinner yet. In a few minutes I’ll hit publish and then walk to the fridge, pull out the cheese, grab some bread and toast it until it’s only slightly burnt. I’ll probably pour another cup of coffee in an hour because there are things to do and items to check off and all of it sounds normal and mundane.
This afternoon I walked around Publix just for the heck of it. I graduated last Saturday (#what) and have been working full-time as a Virtual Assistant (#what again) since then. But that means I sit in my room at a desk with colorful things atop, bringing joy to what is normal, and it is quiet.
It is so very, very quiet.
I may be an introvert (ISFJ, and proud of it) but it’s borderline and letmetellyou this wasn’t my first trip out just to hear other voices.
But this morning I watched a live video call of three people talking about ISIS – and what we can do to help those who are broken.
Then I found my way over to the #LoveFlashMob and found myself engrossed in the stories of so many heroes – sheroes – that I wanted to straight up clap my hands in delight of all that’s being done.
And then my phone rang. A friend’s voice echoed, she simply needed to vent and find comfort on the other end of the line.
It’s ordinary and messy and nothing that anyone would write home about or film for the big screen. But everywhere, all around, I’m watching people rise. Up and up we go because we’re lifting others up. The kind word to a stranger in the grocery store, an honest talk between friends, generosity and comfort found online and through words.
We’re rising together. We’re going up and standing up and saying we won’t. shut. up. because we have a voice. We’re shouting that we’ll speak for the voiceless, we’re whispering a calming word over the frustrated, we’re sharing joy with a stranger in the pasta aisle. It’s so normal and so not and I’m finding that I love it.
Someone said it to me once, way back in middle school. There are one billion trillion things I’ve blocked out from those days but of all the advice I’ve heard since then, I’ve never lost these words:
People and relationships are like elevators. They will either take you up or they will take you down – but they will never leave you the same.
We’re going up. We’re going to rise.
The last time I joined the #fmfparty crew I wrote on the word “tomorrow” and caused, umm, a little bit of a ruckus in my real life. It turns out shooting it straight can feel a bit like getting shot in the foot. And yet here we are again… and I’m happy to be back. Back where we write so we know just what we think. We breathe out our hearts, sharing the hurts and the joys and splitting hearts and words wide open. Come join us?