The process

With a move six months on the horizon, I've been contemplating my months years in Louisville. A two day ride on a greyhound bus brought me back from Spokane and I still recall the apprehension I felt in the darkness of that long ride. The thought of my family brought a smile, but beyond this, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing or going to do. My only plan was to find a plan.

Oddly enough, the plan that landed in my lap became the source of some of my highest moments as well as my lowest. During these years, I experienced the very best of human kindness and felt the horrendous blow of corrupted power. I grew in personal confidence, but I also saw my own flaws flare like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I viewed life from the mountain top and slammed rock bottom as quick as a flash. What threatened to crush me pointed me in the direction of my greatest happiness and fulfillment. Funny how that works.

It has taken me a while to reach this point, but I am grateful. I am grateful for the process--the painfully slow, torturing process we call life. My life is nothing like it was ten years ago, but I am who I am today because of everything I've experienced. It is part of my story--my voice. The process has carved out more of my true self, the self that always seemed to be inside, waiting patiently, but craving to breath fresh air.

Over the top of my computer screen, I see this Love I now call home. Yeah...you better believe I'm grateful.