...and the hands of a mother. Therese said this at the workshop. I didn't quite understand it's meaning until this past weekend.
The hands of a mother - a nurturer, a warm touch, forgiveness and acceptance. But the heart of a lion - to persevere, overcome, stand up...straight - for what you believe in. Courage.
The events of this weekend were deeply personal and painful. But as most life lessons, they can destroy you or make you stronger. I will opt for stronger. I don't know if it's age that has brought me this wisdom or just my past life experiences, but I am grateful that it has sustained its course through all of this. You can choose to be dragged down by the past - which are only memories of the mind. You can choose to be fooled by hope which lies only in the imagination. Or you can choose reality. The now.
I will live here. The now. It is sometimes the most unsettling, but the most sincere and honest. I wish I could vent about all of this, but my heart is on my sleeve for only one person other than myself and I choose him to hold that sacred and will continue to do so.
I write this to encourage others, no matter the situation - look deep within yourself when things seem impossible. When your world crumbles at your feet. Look deeply into your heart. Find your heart of a lion and always keep your hands palms up, warm and loving, not cold and callused. Calluses break and bleed over and over again - they have memories.
I apologize for these esoteric ramblings. I hope they strike a chord in whoever encounters them. These words - this sanctuary I created through this is healing for me and the people I love around me. And that, to me, is priceless.
photo credit unknown, discovered on pinterest