Sharer’s Remorse

Have you ever experienced buyer’s remorse? Those yet to be worn stilettos in your closet tell me yes! As a writer I tend to suffer from sharer’s remorse. I will get inspired and excited and turn to social media as an outlet and end up posting a poem, opinion, or status more personal and meaningful than my usual funny cat memes. Then the neurosis begins! I hit post and read it over and over again (I’m an editor at heart). If I read it enough times I can convince myself that what I was so proud to post a few minutes ago is really lame! My introvert side deflates and drags my openness back into the safe dark turtle shell.

If you pay attention to the time stamps you will see that this was also the case with this very blog (and Instagram)! I created the account confident enough but the things I learned in my college writing classes became a hang up! What was my tone? Who is my audience and am I writing to their needs? Do I have authority to speak on these topics? I’m no expert. I struggle. Does anyone care what I have to say? How DO I feel about that?! WHO EVEN AM I?!

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As a people-pleaser by nature I have always struggled with others’ perceptions of me. I have always had a hard time fitting perfectly into the little labels, boxes and expectations that people put on one another (that I truly think NO ONE lives up to 100%). Am I too much of this? Not enough that? Alas, I am an enigma and always have been. In me as in everyone exists flesh and spirit, dark and light. I am a work in progress not yet complete. Even so, God has plans for me just as I am. He knows my heart. He created me (and you!) to reflect and spread his love in a very specific and individual way. The truth is that if I wait until I’m perfect I will be waiting forever. I don’t believe that is my purpose.

I am working toward being myself and loving myself fully, writing my truth and letting others appreciate it or not. Its okay to express my feelings! I am after all speaking on the world from behind my own eyes and examining MY own existence here and no one else’s. Yes, I’m flawed but maybe someone can relate. If I can help one person not feel so alone then its worth the potential criticism, and exposure of my innermost self (which is at its very core shy yet at the same time has so much to say). I know that if I want to connect with people in any genuine way that it requires honesty, transparency, and a bit of bravery. This passion wasn’t placed in my heart so I could hide it away. Gifts are meant to be shared.

Have you ever experienced sharer’s remorse? What are your passions and gifts? Comment below!

❤ Cait

The Kitchen Sink

We live in quite a fortunate time in history in terms of modern convenience. Of the many modern conveniences I enjoy each day a dishwasher is not one of them. With a growing family that means visiting the sink often to stay on top of the ever present pile of mugs and plates. Sure, there are times I’d prefer to toss them in the waste basket but soon I found the menial task had become a welcome reprieve.

The windowsill above the sink once held all of the hallmark nick-knacks of a well loved mama; assorted bottles of sand art, heart-shaped rocks, small potted herbs, perfect pine cones and gifts from little hearts and hands. One gift was a small cross that reads “Peace, be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10” One day I was on a re-arranging kick and I decided to (finally!) clear and clean the sill. I was moving all my chotchkies into an old shoebox but when I reached for the cross I hesitated, deciding to leave it where it was.

When I went back later on to do the dishes (again!) I read the message over and over. I found myself thinking deeply, staring through the humble kitchen window at the trees in the yard where my pets and children play. Warm water ran over, soothing my busy hands as I thanked God for the opportunity to be still and rest in his peace. By the time the last spoon hit the drying rack I felt my anxieties drain with the suds and dingy water. The little cross which I barely noticed before served as a gentle reminder and the chore became transformed.

Over time I have added other meaningful things to the sill and it has become a sort of altar in my home; a special place I go to pray over my family, water my herbs, offer up the work of my hands, and set my intentions for the day. It just goes to show anything can become meditative, prayerful and intentional even simple tasks. We don’t need only to be in church or on the mountain top to grow in our spirituality. God’s extraordinary presence can enrich even these ordinary parts of our lives and reveal a deeper meaning in the mundane. Now don’t get me wrong, I may not completely enjoy doing the dishes every day (every mom knows the “angry clean” LOL!) but I do know that if I approach this and all things in love, myself and those around me are simply better for it! Let’s let go of our expectations and allow God to reach us exactly where we are.

What do you do to fit in time for quiet contemplation? Comment below!

❤ Cait