Recently I was asked the price I paid for a darling antique desk
where I sit occasionally (because I typically stand) and create…
And after I told the neighbor who asked
I found myself feeling and desiring a deeper story unmasked
For the price of the desk is nothing compared to
The value of each and every moment of spiritual advocacy that led up to
Allowing the decision to choose a nest to call home
and
Allowing myself actually invest in a desk of my very own
And I sat down at that very same space photographed below
And out poured this poem in a matter of moments
And so I share this poem with you
because when you ask what some “thing” costs
dear friend reading it’s such a surface view
Rather might you enquire the what it took to allow the step
In my case years of resolving to never ever quit…
My sense of womanhood
And so I share this poem with you…sharing her-story my heart to yours….
(I use my kitchen as an office)…
The poem:
There are so many choices we face each day
From what kind of womanhood we are living
to what and how and where and when we will say
to what we are using each hour for
to how we will fit in all we seek to do and more
And yet it wasn’t always that direction was so clear
in fact the wandering and praying “show me” seemed the only map for years
and every single decision felt like a peaking of mt everest (still does!)
so when someone now asks me the price of some thing i have in my nest
forgive if i want to sit them down
and hold their hands
and maybe invite them to shed a tear with me
For the dollar price of any “thing”
will never sum up the cost of courage to live fear free.
You can not measure the cost of believing you matter.
You can not measure the cost of devotion of hour after hour
to overcoming fear
and doubt
and uncertainty
you can not measure the cost of allowing the tears to flow unabashedly
you can not measure the cost of courage to figure out where I’ll rest my head tonight
or the cost of perservance that refuses to give up any thought fight
you cannot put a price on defending my right to my own
all that I ever do? I do for the whole of mankind
but in ways I’m slow to many who judge me
and in other ways I’ve done so much to those who value me
but whatever I’ve done… nothing can put a price on our precious thought
and every single time we overcome fear that friend reading is PRICELESS!
It is never about what will you buy to wear
or what kind of abode will you live in and what can your afford and where
and It will never EVER be about the size of diamond or house
or the set of china and where its from
or what you have on your wish list
Yes those trinkets seem to amass a sense of home
But home and family and marriage and motherhood and career begin at first in thought
And all of the duties of womanhood if you will
can not be measured
But we either do them as if wearing a hat or we do them via where our thoughts are embracing.
And yet this one who asked me today
What was the price of the thing she saw me have
All I could do instead of poem this my heart out to her
Was look at her
And honestly reply
The price of that?
What’s the cost of overcoming fear?
And she looked at me like I’m weird
And she said it again “No how much did you spend”
And I look back at her and I said “I spent hundreds upon hundreds of moments and step by step
Of loving me
Of owning my inklings
Of understanding what worth means
Of saying YES to the TRE I be.”
And with that she was rather frustrated and said “just forget it then”
And oh did my eyes water up for what I would do for every single woman to really get it.
Far too many have I seen prop their lives up
And it’s all so pretty and perfect but they’re deeply empty inside.
And others still gawk in awe of them
And i wanna bring the two extremes to the table and say “thought is what we have in common”
And I maybe can show you what I had to heal to take this step
And you can share with me what you did to allow yourself step there
And we could begin a conversation about our courage
And stop sizing up one another by the external appearance.
And so on this Independence Day as I’m poeming my heart spontaneously to you
A hope and prayer that all may know their true worthiness too
You and me are the daughters of Divine Love
And each and every hour SHE OWNS and adores us so
So as we need to face each precious step
And nothing is too small
When we are pulling our hair out and freaking out because we feel so overwhelmed
Or when we really do not know which path to choose
Or when we think we are the last one on the planet to have to decide this still too
Amidst all of those tender moments of reckoning
We can turn our hearts to our inner nudge and get still and listen for what we are hearing.
And it will nudge this way
And it will say do this
And it will be so gently
You will wonder if you’ve missed it.
But Love loves us each too much to ever let us feel neglected
And as we are able thought by thought we are proving true womanhood …forever independent.
My heart to yours,
Tre ~
“Pilgrim on earth thy home is heaven. Stranger thou art the guest of God.”
~ Mary Baker Eddy