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Things I Know, But Cannot Explain

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Things I Know

When I was young, I was sure of things. It was great. I knew what was right, and, what was wrong. I could see things in black and white. I could argue my point of view with assurance. Then, as I matured (thank goodness!), I began to realize that every circumstance is far more complex than I originally realized. I always knew that people were complex, but I had no idea HOW complicated.

Now that I am a grandmother, I can see that I know very little. That I’m better off listening than talking. That I am happier when I see people for who they are, not necessarily by what they say or how they look. When I look into myself first and understand my behavior and feelings before I judge others… I have more peace of mind.

Things I Can’t Explain

Where do I begin! But I think a better way to think about this is, what do I need to explain? Having been raised a woman, I was taught to take care of others first, before myself. My dysfunctional family, taught me to take care of them, first, before myself. I learned to apologize, even when it had nothing to do with me. To think about my role as caretaker as my primary job. It was exhausting. It bred resentment in my spirit. It nearly killed my spirit. The struggle to know and understand (and love!) myself… has been among the most important work I’ve done in my life.

Stop for minute. Think. What is that you know that you can’t explain? Write things down. Even if they don’t make sense. Doodle, draw, sketch…. color. Talk to someone you trust about these ideas. Why? So you can appreciate yourself. So you breathe in how wonderful and intricate your existence is and how amazing it is that you are alive!

I stumbled on this list, 40 Words for Emotions You’ve Felt, But Couldn’t Explain. I am intrigued by this list of words… and the one I am picking for today is:

Liberosis n. the desire to care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone—rather to hold your life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air, with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands of trusted friends, always in play.

As always, I am standing beside you and thanks for standing by me.

Not only is Rick Bartow’s beautiful artwork the image… but I borrowed the title of this post from him… this is what he calls his latest art exhibit in LA.

Image Credit: Rick Bartow


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