I don't always know what to bring to this space. Sometimes it's a struggle, so I don't bring anything at all. But this space, this blog, isn't the only space with which I struggle. I question what I bring to many spaces in my life, especially the social spaces I encounter when I venture out of my preferred space at home. Silence fills the space I don't know how to fill.
But this morning, as I sat at my sewing machine, feeling the gentle breeze through open windows, listening to the kids sling marbles across the yard, pondering the sweet emails I received from friends who missed me at Squam, I had an epiphany of sorts (though it might have been the sunny, 70 degree weather going to my head), and I had to rush to this space to tell you:
When I bring myself, I bring enough.
The same is true for you. When I visit your space, your presence is exactly what I'm looking for. I get so much from the little details you share. Don't underestimate what you bring to your space. You can inspire without even trying. Maybe especially when you don't try.
Months ago, Tara shared something about catching a glimpse of her own reflection in the window at night. Her post had nothing to do with window coverings, or the lack thereof, but I realized at once my blinds had to go. They inhibited my reflection. Just that one little detail about her space completely transformed my own space. My windows have been bare since February. It was my bare windows that led to my epiphany this morning.
There are certain parts of myself that I question - sometimes fear - bringing to this space and other social spaces. What if I'm not enough? What if I bring or say or, heaven forbid, wear the wrong thing? I'll bet some of you have similar reservations. Just like me, you put blinds on your windows. But when you can't see your own reflection, others can't see you either.
I want to bring more of myself to this space. The little details, and the big ones too. The things I believe, even if anonymous commenters tell me I'm wrong. I want to bring less of what I think you want to see, and more of the me I glimpse in my bare windows when the sun goes down.
Even if I'm interrupted 50 times during the 4 to 5 hours it takes me to post a few hundred words. I'll bet you know something about that too.