The moments that pry aside the noise of everyday life; creating a welcoming pause from the constant drumroll of time carelessly passing. The moments where you feel your feet firmly planted in the foundation of all life, while at the same time your spirit is inexplicably lifted beyond. Some call them “lightbulb” moments, others an “Aha” moment. It’s as if God himself is whispering, “it’s me.”      

     I am presently fixated on the concept of a “moment”. Maybe, I foolishly think I am smart enough to trick Mother Nature into stilling for us. Perhaps, she generously provides those willing a reprieve from time to time. In any case, I value such moments. The ones that never leave us no matter how efficiently time seems to be orchestrating our lives. 

     The constellation of a lifetime of moments creates the cohesiveness of our memory. Gently, delicately plucking at this beautiful arsenal of a life, someone’s life, my life, is an exercise in expressing gratitude for a life bestowed. 

     One simple, yet valuable such moment in my life was when Brooke was about 6 months old. She sat in her beloved bouncy chair on our blue Formica kitchen counter. I stood directly in front of her, sleep deprived. My hair in a messy bun, not one stitch of make-up or Mom glam radiating from me. But, I can still hear the sound of her laugh & relish in the sparkle that lit up her dark brown eyes. She faithfully erupted in this full out, belly laugh each time our neighbor started his leaf blower. 

     It was then that I made the commitment to never forget that seemingly ordinary moment. I knew enough, even as a relatively young, novice Mom that time may not always be my friend. This was a “moment” to treasure~ the absolute joy my child was feeling. I knew that my life was then and henceforth intertwined in each of her moments of joy.  

Journaling has long been an outlet for me in processing the quandaries of life. I have “shared” in spiral notebooks, journals, letters, poems, stories, scrap paper  and most recently social media. I have shared my most private self, my authentic self.  Once my mind arranges my feelings and thoughts into coherent expressions, I consider myself shared even if it is in an old, dusty journal at the back of my closet!

In the era of the Internet, it seems the pen and paper of my youth is becoming old school. For me, it seems a natural progression to start a blog.  I typically experience a moment, a day or an occasion and then express it through writing.

The big question that I consider this morning is, “Why have I shared? Why do I serve my life on a platter, my innermost thoughts and feelings, for other’s to judge?” I could just be a normal person and share just a glance into my life; a picture of myself radiating happiness or simply what I ate for dinner. Even better, not share at all. There are moments that I wish that for myself. I doubt myself and I feel incredibly vulnerable. I question whether even just one individual values my sharing or my writing.

As I recently shared in a Facebook post, “It is only in becoming absolutely vulnerable in love that you discover how infinitely strong you truly are.” I realize that in embracing and loving my most instinctive and creative self, I may at times feel vulnerable, but mostly I am proud of the strength it requires to share. Each time I share, I have overcome my fear of judgement and of self-doubt. I am stronger for it. I remain faithful to myself, not to the opinions of others.

The most persuasive motivation for sharing truly lies in connecting with others authentically.  The fulfillment that arises when your sentiments safely land on another’s heart ~ there is not much else that compares in the sharing realm. If by sharing, I  am enabled to encourage, to  inspire or to advocate for another, even one, I am lifted beyond any negativity or judgement~ to a reality I have only experienced through sharing.

I have read that in today’s world, the motto is, “I share therefore I am.” I was not encouraged when I first discovered this, it was not a positive expression. The message seemed to imply that by constantly sharing snapshots into your life, you gained validation for it. This, of course, is not healthy. I constantly consider this.

I can only hope that in honoring my instinct to share my most honest and genuine self, that love itself will be validated. I hope to share for all of life, not just my own.