One of my favorite movies is an annual special…It’s A Wonderful Life and its meaning transcends the holiday theme. On so many levels, it resonates with the woman in the mirror who has learned that she does make a difference and that she may never know the outcome of the seeds she has planted.

I had never considered another motif of the film and it came in the form of two facebook postings, One was a response from a facebook friend to something I had said a few days ago:

 

“Feeling both strong and fragile lately…opening up all kinds of boxes of old stuff (literally and figuratively) as I unpack my mother’s belongings and integrate them into my life. I can recycle old worn out beliefs into treasures, but first I need to air them out…and boy, are some of them musty): Learning to give myself time, patience and compassion to love myself through this process.”

To which Lynette Chartier answered:

“It was after my mother’s death, while writing her eulogy and needing to sort through her things that I tapped into the subconscious knowing that I had had all along… that she was a misunderstood woman. In fact she could not be understood because she did not really know who she was and therefore the result being that she died with her music in her .

I made a clear decision in the summer of 2004 that I was not going to die with my music in me and that maximizing my potential – blooming into the flower I could be was going to be for 3 generations her, myself and my daughter – that I was going to put an end to a French Canadian cultural way of being – that of playing small so that others can be comfortable. And who knows maybe even for my grand children should my two sons have children of their own.”

 
and then I heard this profound song by recording artist, singer songwriter. humanitarian, world traveller, adventurer Jana Stanfield called George Bailey. In it, Jana shares the leaps of faith it takes to refrain from waiting until conditions are ‘just right’ to make choices to enhance our lives.
 
 
One of my hesitations occur when I stand in front of an escalator and decide on which step to place my feet. It is based on an experience from way back when I was a teenager. It was in the summer and I was wearing sandals that had slick bottoms on them. I took a step onto the escalator at Sears and ended up sliding down on one foot. Fortunately, I didn’t get hurt, but the fear remained with me. In the interceding years (and there are many:), I have never replicated that feet/feat, but I still act as if it is likely to recur.
 
What areas of your life call out for more adventurous action, rather than wait and see? How can this help you to recreate your life?
 

 

More from Beliefnet and our partners
Close Ad