I blogged back in March about sowing tomato seeds, and then in July about tasting the first fruits. now at the end of October the plants are a dessicating jungle, with only a few glowing chandeliers remaining. time to clear the beds and let them rest till next year. I will miss grabbing mouthfuls of sunlight as I pass back and forward on my infinity loop between washing machine and washing line.
coming up to my year swiftly now and seeing cycles and patterns everywhere I look. and wanted to share another one with you today because I just can’t get it out of my mind.
I was looking back through some old blog posts of Amy’s and re-read a post that she published on 17 November 2013. I know that I read it the day it was published and so I would have been just 13 days sober that day. I even remember which room I was sitting in when I read it. that post hit me like a freight train filled with hope. I was bowled over by her utter conviction that change was possible. I wasn’t commenting much on blogs at that point (have been making up for it since, obv 😉 ) so never told Amy how much it meant to me.
the post relates the story of what happened next when an article was published about Amy’s recovery in Good Housekeeping. go, read the article! all spine-tingling but these are the parts that are particularly haunting me today:
‘Sometimes when you spend all your time hiding love just can’t find you, no matter how hard you wish for it to show up. But then you stop hiding and love shows up. When you say things like “Help” and “Here I am” and you squinch your eyes closed and hope for the best and then open your eyes and the best shows up too. And then you realize that even a little best is so much better than your old idea of best, and this new big big biggest best is amazing and like a miracle.
That you are loved and that a lot of that love comes from within you yourself is a miracle too….
….What if at this time next year you’ve been sober for almost a year now? What if you look around and decide it’s time for your miracle too? What if you think it will be too hard, and that you can’t can’t can’t but then you do it anyway?
If you are reading this you can have your miracle too. I give you permission from me and the universe because the universe once gave me permission and told me it was OK to offer it to anyone else who needed it. It’s hard and sad and glorious and you won’t even believe that it’s you anymore until that day when you’ve been sober for a while and you suddenly realize you’re the you-est you you’ve ever been. Then you will drop to your knees in you heart and give out thanks for strength and for yourself. You will be soul naked and scared but you will be you and you will love yourself so much for it. And you will cry this deep heartfelt cry, and as the tears of joy and blessing roll down your face you will know.
You are a miracle too.’
and now I am crying, typing this, because it is this time next year, right now, and I have my miracle. I have it every day, because I have been sober for almost a year now.
thank you, dear Amy, for the permission for my miracle so freely and beautifully given. your words had such power then and continue to move and inspire me. I have taken your permission and put it into practice, which is the best way I can think of to thank you.
and now I share it onwards, to anyone else who needs it.
take it. pick it like a golden tomato. taste it. it is marvellous, like nothing you have ever eaten before. an explosion of life and flavour and joy.
you can have your miracle, too.
lots of love to just EVERYONE. overflowing here.
4 days to go to one year.