Lost. Reward if found.

I’ve stood here before, looking into this same old mirror.

I’ve met many women here.

My mother’s daughter. My children’s mother.
A little sister. A wife. A partner. A quitter.
A geek. A friend. A misfit.
Someone who inspires. An imposter. A leader.
A problem solver. A disappointment.
Someone who asks big questions. A failure.

I often stand here, looking for someone else.
I look in that mirror and think “who am I? what do I want? what do I need? what matters to me??”

And I don’t know. I feel lost.

But sometime, as I wipe away the steam after my shower, I catch my eye.

I stop.

And I simply let all the stories fall away, dropping to the floor next to the dirty jeans and wet towel discarded there in a heap. Somehow, the water rinses off more than just the sweat and soap suds. I let it wash down parts of the “me” that I hold up to the world most days.

In this moment of honesty, I recognize that “I don’t know...” just means “I don’t think I can do that...” or “what if I’m wrong?”

“I don’t know...” just means “I’m afraid…”

What am I afraid of?

Afraid that I really am a failure. Or not good enough. Or that you’ll be disappointed in me.

Afraid that I really am capable of so much more. That I can do great things. That I can do what I dream of. And, if so, why haven’t I done it before now? What’s taking me so long?

It brings to mind the famous quote by Marianna Williamson:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness,
that most frightens us.

What most frightens me? It seems easy to feel inadequate – and easy to find “evidence” for the negative stuff. But to feel powerful? Seems impossible, most days.

Truth is they both frighten me. And they’re both true. Perhaps that’s where freedom comes – from embracing these contradictions in my life.

Truth is that I’m ALL of those things.
And I’m still a worthy, capable, growing and changing human being.
I used to think I had to “figure it all out” and then I’d be okay…
Now I realize I’ll never figure it all out. Monks who meditate 365 days a year don’t have it all figured out. I certainly never will!

I’m beginning to feel like it’s okay to be on a journey, to take one thing at a time and trust in my own process. It’s not always how I want it to happen, but it’s happening nonetheless.

For this moment, I stand and look in the mirror and yes, I do know.
I know that I’m all sorts of things. And as long as I can embrace all of that and still keep striving to be better, that’s what counts.

For this moment, I can look at my weaknesses and failures and still believe in myself. I can be a little more patient because I know that I’ve already accomplished things that felt impossible before. I’m well on my way to being the mother that I want to be, that my children need. That hasn’t been a short or easy journey, by any means. And I’m doing it.

Likewise, as hopeless as it may feel in a moment, when I’m looking up at the mountain left to climb, I can look down and see how far I’ve come already – and have faith.

Indeed, this is the reward…