Last night I did something for the first time. I read a piece I wrote for the Frunchroom. The Frunchroom is a Southside reading series made up of a collection of writers who showcase a story.
Even though I write a monthly blog for the Beverly Yoga Center newsletter, I do not consider myself a writer. I have agonizing memories of getting back papers in high school and college with so much red ink that I thought the teacher went through a package of pens just for me. Since my teen years, I’ve always been self-conscious of my writing.
I started writing again by accident when I began writing the BYC newsletter, which told stories about my life and what I think about on my journey as a human being. All of my writings reflect what I think and feel in quiet, which is either on a yoga mat, meditation cushion, a long walk in nature or swimming laps in a pool.
When I was asked to do the reading, I accepted without hesitation because it just so happened that I had something percolating in my mind that was best put to paper rather than replaying the series of events in my head over and over again.
I also know that when life is uncomfortable, it’s an opportunity for growth and that is always exciting to me. I have a love and devotion for growing into new frontiers and shedding fears that hold me back from living life whole heartedly.
Not only did I read last night, which was an edge in itself, but I promoted it and sent emails and even posted to Facebook to friends and family to attend for support. And they did!
I was overflowing with love and appreciation for my friends and family who showed up for me. I am much better at giving love than receiving it. In my private life, receiving love is actually a practice for me.
So this morning as I take some time to pause and reflect on the evening, I am reminded of all my friends and family who love and support me. I am going to take that in and let my heart continue to overflow.
