Sometimes I feel like the new puppy...

you know the ones that wag their tails and pee all over the floor in a joyful chaos that may even involve face licking. Unfortunately, unlike the puppy I get to replay the outcomes over and over in my head and in my humanness I remember the pee more than the tail wags and sloppy kisses. 

I need to let go better of the after thoughts; allowing 'the pee' to be 'okay'. 

Recently I have had good fortune to be anonymous in the production of inspiring stories, told in conversation, by women in my community. In each show the host asks: What would you tell your 25 year old self, your 40 year old self?  Her guests are women in midLIFE. It is remarkable how these diversely different women seem to have similar messages for their earlier selves a.k.a any younger women watching. There is an intention to recap the segments of letters to a younger self, as life allows. So, what would my letters say?

I probably need to read those letters to self now so I need to write them. My self-talk of late seems to be rooted in the 25 year old psyche with some wisdom of experience but still too much awareness of the downsides of exuberant anxiety. This makes sense as now is a time of change and envisioning of the next phase of life. Unfortunately; the default voice reinforces worry too often with words that do not inspire "When the right things align and you do not need to fill your life with compliance tasks ... " is the default voice pattern worried about 'security' and deferring choices. The reflective voice says 'The right things will align; be open to new. Enjoy the moments. Be Here Now. Tap into that self that can focus, can connect, create. And if you are going to listen to voices listen to all of them." 

My life experiences are sources of good life lessons and uniquely me stories. The stories reveal that confidence, courage and generosity win over fear. Stories of a fast bicycle, a hyphenated name, a telephone book as a road to reading, being Patty Hearst for a day, saving 5 times my salary on the job and repeating this often in my career, a natural out-of-hospital childbirth, riding the bus with the non-exempt, the Edgerton Park shooting, serving up words with a diverse team of poets, decades wearing the title of president or chairman, home sharing, lynch-pin community building and eventually designing the system that replaced me ... getting me to my current state of reWIREment and the promise of a return of a sort (with some economic bells and whistles). 

The wires connected to my spirit have been singed some; however, they remain and can be restored with acceptance of sloppy kisses as an old dog.