I’m a woman who, for good or for bad, has always told the truth about her life.
I’ve admitted when I’m lonely.
I’ve acknowledged when I’ve wished this all away.
I’ve confessed when I’ve felt lost.
I’ve made zero effort to hide when stuck in the place between what was and what will be.
Despite these facts (because of these reasons?) the past few years I’ve been on the receiving end of 3 particular words.
Words which initially sparked me to feel fantastic yet, after toomuchtimeonmyhandsforreflectionrecently, I’ve concluded are not five syllables to which I aspire.
You inspire me.
To me being identified as inspiration sounds exhausting as it necessitates the setting of example.
When I consider people I venerate it triggers a visual in my mind.
A mental picture of individuals so crazyfar ahead of where I am in life they’re fading into the distance.
An image of those who inspire as out there ‘setting the pace‘ and leading from the front.
Spoiler alert: I’ve no idea where said front is let alone energy or interest to push my way there.
I’m tremendously grateful for all the words of encouragement the past few months.
Right now I’m more #hotmess than inspiration.
I’m choosing on a daily basis to show up as authentic and flawed.
I’m hoping, as a result, to create space for others to do the same.
#wycwyc isn’t inspiration.
The flip-side of my inspiration-rambles makes less sense to my tired cranium.
Because, as I wobble through life momentarily more baby fawn than badass buck, I’m not immune to seeking inspiration porn (is that a thing? around here it’s become a thing).
(shout out to you, FaceBook Women Tribe)
The paradox arises as a result of the fact I’m now concurrently aware the (finger quote) inspiring (unFQ) women I fix my gaze upon in the middle of the night may not see it in themselves.
Nor may they desire to.
As I’ve learned during 3am Google searches: Being inspirational, even when it’s something I feel toward others, is an accidental achievement.
Inspirational cannot be plotted or planned.
Inspirational is a love child born from the serendipitous crashing together of 2 highly valued traits:
It’s willingness to take a risk even when the risk is as seemingly simple as presenting oneself in as genuine a light as possible.
A readiness to leap with an awareness no net may appear inspires me more than anything one could set out to purposefully achieve in an attempt to lead the way.
can glow sticks inspire?
It’s less a Radamacher quote and more a sense of: Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it’s the voice at the *start* of the day which reminds you 17 more hours until you can climb back in bed and surrender.
And, if that inspires, then it’s a tiny byproduct of the larger experience I call my life.
It’s the mess in me recognizing and giving a thumbs-up to the mess in you.
I’m dragging you with me as I trudge down the path of NewCarla.
A trail I’m simultaneously discovering, creating and sharing.
I’m allowing you to witness my mistakes in ‘real time’ and experience alongside me whether life turns out as I intuit or not.
Can you lead from the middle?
I don’t know.
I’m no inspiration. I’m not self-deprecating. I’m honest.
- Are you inspired by how others live?
- Are your inspirations the same individuals others view as guiding lights?