what matters is love
And that's ok. Totally and utterly ok. Truly. I do my best to keep my ego out of this blog's statistics. (I'm still human so sometimes there are stings. And then I remember. I am remembering today.)
I know, I know that my life is worthwhile without a big following. We are all worthwhile, unconditionally.
(I am committed to helping people. Helping a few people spreads ripples through this world, I know this.)
I'll keep writing my truth, my life, my poems. Touching the few people that need to be touched. Teaching the people who need to be taught. And learning from them, from you.
This is my space. This is my art, my form, my virtual base. My legacy.
I don't write on the weekends because it messes with my family-life. I write every week day because it is my practice and I enjoy it. (I'm planning on taking a break in August and it is kinda freaking me out, no lie. And that's also good because sometimes we need to stretch ourselves.)
My husband doesn't read this blog. It's not for him, the person I'm connected to most in this life (and he's right). So, I get why people who don't even know me wouldn't read every day (or ever).
I am writing to remind myself of what I know, what I believe, what I want to keep practicing.
I'm reminding myself of what I need to hear. I'm reminding myself that it doesn't matter that twenty people added me to their rss feeds and then only a day later twenty people (maybe the same, maybe not) took me off of their rss feed. I'm reminding myself that I am worth more than numbers. I am reminding myself about what matters.
What matters is being here. What matters is living. What matters is giving and receiving kindness.
What matters is love.