I have a lot on my mind.
One...I have an exam tomorrow. If I pass, I will be aPHR-certified and have a foundation to apply to HR jobs. The problem is that I haven't been able to fully invest in studying, so I don't feel as confident as I want to. But I've made peace if I don't pass and will cross that bridge when I get to it.
The sub-thoughts: is HR still for me? Do I need to go back to school?
Two...I have a cardiologist appointment on Monday. This is where I get a new baseline on my heart condition that I've had since I was a baby. I received my old medical records from my previous cardiologist today, and reading through them brought back the reality of my condition. At some point I will have to get a heart valve repaired or replaced. I may have to have the hole in my heart closed so that I can breathe at full capacity while exercising. I will have to be hyper-vigilant if I ever decide to have children. I am so grateful that my condition is mild, so I haven't felt too many of the effects growing up. But recently I've been more aware of my limitations, and there is the fear of the unknown of where I sit now.
The sub-thoughts: I am getting older and this is terrifying.
Three...I have resolved to define the ground that I want to stand on. I am tired of being a chameleon.
No sub-thoughts on that one. Just determination.
There is a poem that I received today, and a lot of it spoke to my heart. I'd love to share it in case all or parts of it may speak to yours.
The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals, or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true, I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours or mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are, or how you came to be here - I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
The sub-thoughts: That. I want to be that. I want to seek that.
Take care, friends.