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the stories...


a new (whispered) soul mantra in my little shop

last sunday, a dear friend was visiting and we were talking about how much has changed for me during these last almost six years of living in the pacific northwest. she has known me since i was 14, and then we were colleagues in my job at the boarding school back in indiana. she knows that i was not my most happy, real self while in that job. she asked me about what changed when moving here.

being in a new place was a big piece as i tried to find my way...but part of this internal awakening came as i sifted through the grief that came into my life about nine months after we moved when my grandmother died on the heels of my first golden, Traveler, dying of cancer. my heart cracked open as it seemed to break in two when i found myself in a funeral home in south carolina facing the truth of this first walk into deep grief. last sunday, i said to my friend, "i learned what love really felt like in that moment." we talked about the relationship that i had with my grandmother and how she really did have such a challenge showing those she loved that she loved them, yet she found her way to show me. i know that her love shaped me so much as a person, yet i am saddened that, from my perspective...based on the stories shared with me, she did not often find her way to show this side of herself to others in her family.

i said something to my friend about now i find myself pulled to tell her story...to tell the stories of all the women who came before me. and, at this point at least, i don't mean the details of their stories...i don't mean the specifics of a family's journey. no. i mean that as i share my story...here, with my friends, at retreats, in my book, through the art i create...as i share my story i am telling their stories because they live in me. literally. they live within me. and as i walk in this life, i am the proof of their love...my mother's, my grandmother's, her mother's, and so on...i am the gift of the love they opened up to in their life...even if just for a moment. and i am here to tell their stories as i walk on this path.

Reader Comments (10)

"and as i walk in this life, i am the proof of their love"...one of the most beautiful lines I've read.

February 28, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterandie

thank you for this...we all need to tell their stories. we are like the army that keeps marching after they are gone....and we are passing that baton to our daughters, hoping they will know...always. it is truly a beautiful thing.

February 28, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterTina M.

This really got me thinking. I have been working (much longer than I should be) on typing up my Mom's autobiography and am learning so much I didn't know about her and her family (which is also my family, but all of them gone). It has turned out to be such a gift I didn't expect and I can really relate to what you are saying. Thanks for this insight!

Also, I am reading "A Big Little Life" by Dean Koontz about his amazing golden retriever. An awesome book if you haven't read it.

(Didn't know about the boarding school!)

February 28, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterPatty

I totally identify with this. When I was in Egypt, I had a strong sense of taking my female forebears along with me for every step. They were seeing through my eyes, thinking through my thoughts and feeling the magic of it all.

February 28, 2010 | Unregistered Commentermeri

I so love this Lizzie, I think it's a way to heal and grow. xoxo

March 1, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterkristen

what a beautiful post...

March 1, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterMichelle Ensminger

beautiful. i think the collective consciousness lives in us all, we carry all those that came before us in our creative spirits. you have lovely ancestors.

March 1, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterkelly


"i am the proof of their love .."

i love that line.

March 1, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterelizabeth

oh, how i love this post.
how i understand and feel this post...
so deeply.

March 2, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterChristina

i love this liz.
i get you.
i feel the same way about my mothers death when you speak of your grandmother.
you are wise.
tell her story.

March 3, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterchrissy

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