Success...what do we with that?

133 little digital hearts on a Note about my 2yr old daughter and her delight in seeing the moon.

People liking what you write. It’s “something and nothing’ I hear my late mother’s voice in my ear. She was a grounding presence if ever there was one.

Photo by Guzmán Barquín on Unsplash

That’s what I’m trying to do here. I’m trying to write about the moments that make us human. The things we really care about. Not the things we’re told to care about or the things we do a good job pretending we care about like glamour, but the things that wake us from our sleep. Waking us from our bedtime sleep and maybe even our metaphysical sleep.

It’s spirituality but I don’t want to talk about spirituality and mysticism, because I know nothing of these.

All I have to talk about is my compost and how there’s life in there. I want to see my children…like really, really see my children because I’m terrified that I’ll live a whole lifetime and won’t.

I write because I’m living at depths beyond my breath hold. A LIKE, a heart, a moment with a reader is a resupply of oxygen coming in the nick of time.

‘133 likes’ feels like success but at what number would this not be a success? 132…131…130…19…18…17…

It’s an interesting question, and worth exploring if you’re putting stuff out there. Is ‘zero’ failure whilst ‘1’ is success or is ‘10’ success whilst ‘9’ is failure…’100’ but not' ‘99’?

It’s clear the number doesn’t exist when we actually look, it’s only what we make of it that matters.

It’s success to me, but only because those words were inside me and they could’ve quite easily have stayed there. I nearly didn’t hit post.

I really didn’t think people would connect to that ‘small’ moment with my daughter and her fondness of the moon.

Writing deeply personal moments of reflection you always run the risk of being ignored.

When people add a LIKE you feel like you’re tethered to other humans who perhaps feel the same way.

Shout out to

Kathy Cummings

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and

Tara Penry

who added a heart or three to my words.

Here’s another short piece on the other great grounding force in my life, my brother Geoff. It’s about the time I rudely discovered that I tended to think deeply….too deeply Deep as the Ocean