The quality of our relationships begin in the mirror.
I didn’t have any plans of becoming a Letting Go Coach. It was offered to me after going through the Letting Go lessons personally.
If it’s in front of me, I’m gonna walk through it.
I told myself, “There are enough coaches in the world”, and there are some really good ones. People who have a passion for it. I was grateful for receiving the certification, but it wasn’t a passion.
All I wanted to do at the time was write.
In the midst of creating this site, I was instructed by WordPress to choose a name. I had just completed my Letting Go Certification, so I wanted the name to reflect where I was. After trying numerous variations of the words ‘Letting Go’, Letitgocoach was the only name available for purchase.
Personally, I believe it’s because I smashed four words together to make the one word, and it had God’s blessing. I was ready to write as Letitgocoach.
This morning, I was playing around with this site, and decided to make a change. There haven’t been many changes made to it since the very beginning, so it was time to give it a more simplified look. This year alone there have been many changes in me, so the site should reflect more of who I am today.
After choosing a theme, I was prompted to give it a name.
I clicked a lowercase ‘L’, thinking it would remember Letitgocoach, but the computer thought my lowercase ‘l’, was an I, and auto-filled with Inbarbsworld. I haven’t seen that name in years.
It was my very first email address eons ago.
There are many stories behind Inbarbsworld, but most people refer to it in a teasing sort of way. One thing the storytellers have in common is they always say, “Everything is prettier Inbarbsworld.”
My name is Barb, and welcome to my world.
I’m happy you are here.
A year changes you a lot. It’s hard to believe that a year ago, the lump in my left breast was so painful, I could hardly breathe. Fast forward to this moment. I have one more Radiation treatment left. That lump is not there anymore, and this Breast Cancer Journey is ending.
Every ending has a new beginning. Sitting here at my laptop, I’m not certain what that looks like, but I know it will come. My daily routine will have a hole to be filled.
My daughter didn’t sleep well lastnight because Numi was in her room. She wouldn’t settle down, and go to sleep like she normally does in the hallway, so tonight Numi will have different sleeping arrangements made for her. A good night’s sleep is very important. It sets the tone for the following day, and tomorrow is a day of celebration.
There were parts of this journey that taught me to celebrate something as simple as breathing. I couldn’t have coffee during Chemo, but today I am savoring a cup of freshly ground drip. Each day is a celebration. It has taken time, but it’s almost over.
I started writing a Blog lastnight, but again didn’t publish it. With this 30 day challenge, I’m learning I can write anytime of day. Mama always said, “Nothing good happens after midnight.” Well, in my mind there is nothing publish worthy after 9:00 pm.
This is what’s happening in real-time. I’m sitting at the dining room table at Smith’s house, listening to my favorite CD, drinking coffee from a red mug, and looking out the sliding glass doors at the lake. It rained lastnight, and brought in fog, so the lake is not visible yet. I know the lake is there, but I cannot physically see it. Does this sound familiar?
This reminds me of this path of life we’re on. We know we have one, but we can only see so far ahead. God gives us just enough light for the step we’re on. We take a step, and there is more light, but just enough for that step. Sitting here this morning, I wish to see more steps.
You can see how bright the light is over the lake. The sun is trying to burn away the fog, and restore a visual of what’s there. God is in that ball of fire. He wants us to trust Him even when we cannot see very far ahead. To enjoy the present moment, but keep stepping.
Some ducks swam across the lake, as I made more coffee, and ate a piece of chocolate covered caramel. It would seem I’m on a path with many detours, but they all lead back to my heart. During the week I am in my little farmhouse, sharing a life with my daughter.
The weekends, I’m usually at the lake with Smith. He is a Chef, and normally has to work on Saturday’s. He’s at work right now, and there is a void where his presence is absent. If he was here, I can see him sitting on the couch trying to find some football on TV. My laptop and I would move to another room and continue writing in a more serene space.
He would come and find me periodically, and make himself known. I can feel him walk into the room, and he may touch me, but he wouldn’t disturb my writing. He enjoys that I write, and encourages me with that. He also tolerates being the subject from time to time.
The sun is becoming brighter as I finish up this Blog. It will be time to start repacking my things, load up my truck, and head to Radiation. Today will be #22 out of 30 treatments.
I was tempted to call and cancel today’s appointment, but that would just prolong the inevitable. Once Radiation is complete, I will have more options. My daughter is staying with her Dad until tomorrow, so it’s very tempting to stay one more day here at the lake.
I used to know where home is. Over time of driving back and forth, I’m not really sure anymore which house is home. For some time now, when I return to the little farmhouse, and walk inside, it feels like a house. My daughter gets there, and it feels more like home, but there is still a void. I find myself each day looking forward to going back to the lake.
Smith is the most patient man I have ever met. He has been waiting for me to decide when to bring all these paths together as one big path, and the three of us to live this life together. Home is where your heart is, and today it’s in this lake house, but getting ready to leave once again. I believe it’s time for me and my heart to decide, which way is home.