“(insert expletive) yes, I am.”
This weekend I went running again.
It was maybe the first or second time I laced up my grey running shoes since November.
Seems like it was always too cold or too busy or too many kids to teach or too many Cadbury eggs to eat.
But the sun had been shining for too many days to ignore and the winter blahs had been dragging me down for too many months and I didn’t have bronchitis and no child was sick and it was a Saturday and not a duty in the world was urgently calling my name.
So I ran.
A few yards down the trail, despite the Avett Brothers’ cheerful melodies, I could hear the same old question in my head, pounding along with each foot fall.
“Am I runner yet?”
And it sounds like the same question I have been asking in every other realm of my life.
“Am I writer yet?”
“Am I a teacher now?”
“Am I an artist?”
And the more I hear myself repeat the question
the more I am exasperated with the answer.
Irritated at my
pathetic shrug of the shoulders,
pitiful head tilt,
“I don’t know” type of response
mumbled to absolutely no one
because no one is asking the question (except me)
and no one is listening for the answer (except me).
It is as if I am yearning for someone (anyone) to validate my choices.
To be my reference.
To build me up.
To fix me.
It is not a new scenario,
but it is one of which I am exceedingly weary.
So much so, in fact, that it actually makes me want to curse.
To say boldly,
“&%$# yes, I am a runner!”
Why?
Because I ran two miles today, that’s why.
“&%$# yes, I am a writer.”
Why?
Because I picked up a pen and scrawled my ideas across a page.
“&%$# yes, I am an artist.”
Why?
Because I created something of beauty that was not there before.
Do I finish every race strong?
Uh, no.
Do I complete every post that I begin?
Certainly not.
Do I have boxes of unfinished art projects stacked in the closet?
Of course.
But I’m still
a runner,
a writer,
an artist.
And I don’t need anyone else to tell me what I already know.
So – what are you?
What do you need to say?
Please, fill in the blank –
“&%$# yes, I am a _________.”
10 Comments
Kindra
I am a fan of Lacey Keigley's blog!!
I am a frustrated.
I am sick.
I am in need of answers that I may not get.
LaceyKeigley
Yes, I have been all of those.
(well, the fan part would be a little narcissistic, but all of the others!)
Jesse Wickstrum
“&%$# yes, I am a philosopher.”
I may not be published. I may not have anything groundbreaking or infinitely insightful, but what I conceive and think is all original and genuine. No, most people don't want to hear what I have to say, but that doesn't make it wrong.
I wonder.
I question.
I think.
LaceyKeigley
I like this Jesse.
And for the record – I have always thought of you as a philosopher.
(and a creative. and an original.)
Helen Rutrough
Anybody that can run 2 miles at any given time is definitely a runner in my mind!
Anybody that makes me have that feeling of I can't wait to read her next blog is definitely a writer. You really, really have a way with words that I just love! Some days I check two or three times just to see if you've added anything else!!!
Anybody that taught my children and is now teaching theirs is definitely a teacher. And a wonderful one that both of my children enjoyed having as their teacher and friend!
And anybody that is as creative as you is definitely considered an artist in my book!.
If fact anyone prone to do so could be jealous of your many talents. Thank the Lord for them and use the talents He has given you with gusto!!
And when you pen your first book I want a signed copy please!
LaceyKeigley
Dear sweet Helen,
(It seems wrong not to address you as Mrs. Rutrough.)
Thank you for your kind, kind words.
I do so appreciate your encouragement.
And your gentle reminder to be grateful for all I am and all God has given me.
(And I loved teaching your children as well!)
Now – to find the time to write that book —–
nikkie
forgiven.
LaceyKeigley
indeed.
alece
(is it weird that i want to thank you for pseudo-swearing on your blog? cause i do. even though i'm going to refrain from dropping f-bombs in my comment… )
this totally hits me down deep. i don't consider myself an anything. except negative things. hell yes, i'm a perfectionist. and a big hot mess. and a failure.
but good things? or things i dream and aspire and hope to be? hell no. i've not done enough yet to be labeled such a thing. and with my innate "i am not enough" syndrome, i will never have done enough to deserve a title. it's an exhausting, vicious cycle.
i needed to hear you give me permission to breathe in deep and stake my claim on some new identity words. even though i may not have done all i want or achieved all i desire or succeeded as well as i'd wished, i am still a… writer. friend. dancer. (thinking of things i am is a harder task than it probably should be…) i am a leader. influencer. perseverer.
hell yes, i am enough.
LaceyKeigley
enough.
that is the best.
Yes, I am enough.
How often (over and over) has that been the real question on my lips. – am I enough? will I ever be enough?
thank you for responding alece.
you are enough – and so much more.