As you know, I’ve been experiencing a bit of a funk lately. I think I can attribute it to a conglomeration of things – but it’s not like me to be in a funk for more than a day or two. This one seemed like it was prepared to settle in with a good cup of joe and stay a while. I couldn’t figure it out so decided to blog about it a few days ago. And that’s when it all started.
The Fog of Funkitivity began to tinker with the idea of lifting.
Y’see after blogging about my “situation,” I was overwhelmed with the level of genuine concern I felt from other mom(my) bloggers who commented on my post. It seriously brought tears to my eyes to be able to feel their proverbial arms embrace me with compassion. And lend a hand of strength with ideas of how to pull out of my funk with knowingness as if this was something they knew all too well. Even just the feeling of “I hear you sister and I know you’ll get through it,” felt like the first sense if hopefulness I’d experienced in days.
The Fog of Funkitivity slowly started to rise.
The next few days were scattered with a coaching call, having tea with a sister friend in town, and a few chats on the phone with other sister friends. It astounds me how a few conversations with people who you know and trust can help you find that perspective I chatted about a few postings ago. I was trying desperately to shift my perspective by being grateful for what I have and realizing that many would be grateful for much less. What was my problem? My sister friends helped me find that perspective. They took my hand, walked me to the other side of the room and helped me focus on Perspective. It turns out I was looking at it from the wrong angle. They helped me see how seemingly unfortunate events were actually confirmations of intentions I’d set for myself just a few months ago. Whoa.
The Fog of Funkitivity vanished.
Although my situation wasn’t anything hugely traumatic or devastating – it was disturbing in that it truly was starting to hinder my life. I was getting short with my kids, I felt like crying all day, and I lacked a sense of purpose. Yikes.
I learned something on a much deeper and more profound level in this process – all of these women, from those who are across the continent and have never met me, to my sister who has known me since birth, some of these women have children of their own, some have chosen not to – all of these women shared something amazing with me - their strength, support, and wisdom.
The strength and richness of women will never cease to amaze me. When one sister trips – there is a plentitude of hands pulling her back up. Who knew this could happen through something as ethereal as cyberspace?
So in light of recent discussions on abundance, I know this: There are no limits to the amount of strength women have. I am humbled, grateful, and so inspired to use this knowledge and “do something about it!”
