My family used to tease me by saying, “Geesh, Sara, do you have to tell everything you know?” Well, the truth is, until this blog, I told little of it. I might have told you what so and so said or did. I probably talked about my amazing kids. I definitely shared my opinions, which were honest. If I trusted you, I probably scraped the surface and let you in enough to get feedback and maintain relationships–I can almost bet there were few moments when I fully shared my deep thoughts, secrets, or big dreams. We all have stuff we keep locked away–I might have more than some and less than others.
I was not afraid of how someone might view the information, or me for sharing. I keep it close because I’m never done with it. I keep it inside and let it flow on paper, because that is where it all makes sense. Paper sits there, quiet and patient. I think and write, think and write. If it still does not make sense, I write some more. Lately, I couldn’t have shared what I wanted with my friends and I could not make the words sit on paper. My head has been a jumbled mess of worry, exhaustion, and full of information. My brain felt much like a bowl of Jell-O dropped on the floor–in pieces and all over the place.
Most of the time, writing is my cure-all. It’s cathartic and clarifying. It allows me to remove the stress swirling in my head and put it somewhere I can see it and manuever it. Its nice when I get the puzzle put together, but sometimes, it’s just the edge pieces that fit together. And that’s okay, it lets me see where I need to work. There have been a few times when writing just wasn’t enough. I know when those times strike, I have to clear my head.
Sometimes, especially on clear, chilly nights, I love to quietly sneak out to the yard with a blanket–I pick a spot right in the middle so I can see the whole sky. Sometimes the dog comes and lays with me–sometimes I am so quiet even she doesn’t hear me. I lay down, my head propped on my folded arms as I look up at the sky. The moon and the stars rest effortlessly against a black canvas, as if it were only there to highlight their beauty.
The sky’s charm leaves me in awe, but it’s more than that–it’s the way it makes me feel. It is strange to me how staring into space can bring me back down to earth. When I stare at those brightly lit dots that softly light the sky, the only thing that fills my head is wonderment.
As I lay, I am humbled by the universe’s unmatched breathtaking features. Suddenly, there is no room for those fears and stressors–they are gone just like that. It’s easy to get lost in that sky, but after a few minutes I find myself again. My mind clears, my heart swells, and I remember that dreams are attainable. There was a time when no one thought we could ever reach the stars. Not only did we reach those stars, but we walked on the moon. If we can reach the moon, I can at least grab a star.
When I pull myself away from that great big sky, I walk away feeling a quiet strength, absolute faith, and invincible confidence in dreams. Everyone needs something–find your piece of sky.