“Look up at the stars and not down at your feet”

On being brave enough to be more than.

I.

Good morning loves! I just woke up and my mind is already running (thank you Folgers 1/2 caf blend). The persistent thought dominating my brain today is about my story, my thing that I want to convey to the world.

I think that I default to being brave - that is at the core of who I am and who each of us is. I think about the women and men that i look up to, and how much they impact me and the world at large. I look up to the people who live their brave out loud.

So many different people have impacted me over the last few years because of their bravery. Because of them, and my husband, I push myself to move outside of my comfort zone and use my voice to tell my story. Words move me forward, words propel me to take action, to me there is nothing more powerful.

I have been afraid for most of my life. Afraid of failing. Afraid of doing all the wrong things. Afraid of never moving. Even though I’ve been afraid, have purposely tried to quit life twice, in the end (or maybe the beginning now), I picked myself up every time. I faced demons of addiction and abuse and one Fall morning said no more. I was not going to fall down that rabbit hole anymore.

I have taken a zigzag road full of potholes and speed bumps and orange cones and Caution tape...and through all that winding fear, I just kept going. And sometimes I think that’s the bravest thing anyone can do.

My final thought isn’t my own, but it stays in my brain daily, from the late great Stephen Hawking:

“Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious. And however difficult life may seem, there’s always something you can do and succeed at. It matters that you don’t give up.”

II.

I saw a meme or a quote once many years ago that said something to the effect of “tell your story of survival so that others may know the way”. I’m paraphrasing because I can’t remember it exactly now. But I use that idea as fuel to keep me coming back to the page.

I think about the how of my story a lot. How do I keep going? How did I change my life over and over again?

I believe that maybe it’s an intrinsic knowing that I am more than.

More than just the baby born to addict parents who’d left me in dirty diapers screaming until my grandmother found me. More than just the girl who watched my father get arrested on my sixth birthday because of his drinking, hauled away from Pistol Pete’s Pizza and all of my presents impounded.

More than just the teenage girl who had my heartbroken by nearly every person in my life, so desperate to be loved that I married a stranger because he asked after less than a month of knowing him. More than the young mom who was terrified all the time that she would break the heart of her daughter and ruin her life.

More than the woman who lost everything - car, clothes, pictures, notes, stuffies, irreplaceable items handed down by my family. More than the woman who has had to rebuild myself over and over again.

I can’t pinpoint this knowing. I can’t explain how to replicate it. I only know and am sure that it lives in each of us. Maybe you’ve drowned out the whispers of it, but what if you allowed yourself to get quiet for a moment? Just to listen to the beat of your own More Than drum. Can you hear it?

Let it move you forward. Remind yourself of all that you’ve overcome to get to where you are. And if there are still mountains to climb, let your past yous be the hands that pull you up. Find your brave.

Keep going. Keep going. Keep going.

Look up- there’s so much more than you could possibly imagine.

Thanks for being here friends. I hope you’re all taking care in these turbulent times. I appreciate you more than words.

From my other Stack - I Dissent:

We’re Not Helpless

They Can’t Have Our Wild Fierce Hearts

Trying to Live and Dissent All at the Same Time