I stood at the far corner of the hayfield with the sun shining on me, warming me. A slight breeze carried the sweet, earthy scent of fallen leaves. Looking around me at our property, a feeling of gratefulness washed over me, causing my stomach to shift and my eyes to water. How could I be so lucky as to have all of this. The frilly blue asters and the round purplish blossoms of the clover contrasted with the autumn trees in the distance. The dogs played in the green grass, horsing around with the pure joy that seems reserved for dogs. Bees were buzzing. I was glad.
I thought back to my day and felt grateful for that too, maybe even more than the rest. It was writing group today, my third time. I sat through the meeting and felt awed by the feelings of acceptance and openness, and yes, I would say love, that was around me. This wasn't just about writing a memoir, it was much more than that. The women shared feelings and events that had perhaps not been shared many others. There were times that the stillness of the room was filled only with the poignant story being read. I was amazed and humbled to be part of such a group. And grateful to Christina who told me about it, and glad that I hadn't whinge'd out like I often do.
When it was my turn to read, I cleared my throat and told my story. There was nothing poignant about my tale - instead of held back tears, there were chuckles and sometimes even laughter. I wasn't as nervous this time, and managed to read the story without racing through it like an LP played at the 45 speed. My hands didn't shake (at least not much).
After the group was over, Heather followed me back home so that we could sit on the swing and eat our lunch (yes! swing still!). We talked as if we already knew each other for ages. It was nice.
To share your weakness is to make yourself vulnerable; to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength. ~Criss Jami