It's Easier When it's Not Me

Why are things so much clearer when it's not MY situation? Why can I give someone advice that I should probably take myself except that I can't ever remember it when I'm whirling around in my tizzy? Helping others makes me feel so good and then when I share my struggles, people are often flabbergasted that I have them. "But you seem so together", they say. Well...I am. On the outside.
Inside, I'm a boiling mess of anxiety and OCD and other flip outs. Years of "research" and "practice" have helped me learn to cope and most of all to cover it up when necessary. I guess I do a better job than I thought. Go me.

I hope my life ends up meaning something to someone. I so often feel like I'm a blip on the radar of life and have no chance to make a real difference in the world. I do meaningful work and I am passionate about what I do. I yearn to expand upon my work and bring it out further into the world, but I find myself waiting for permission. Why do I need permission? 

In the wise words of Ralph Waldo Emerson:

To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

These words always make me think of someone who's crossed over the rainbow bridge, shall we say.  She will always be with me as I go through this adventure I call life. She taught me more than she could ever know. More than I probably know. The yellow background on those words is for her. And these sunflowers are for both of us. Yellow and hopeful looking toward the sun.