Blogmas Day 6: This little light of mine

Happy Blogmas Day 6!

Six days ago, I created this page. My friend KaylaAnn briefly mentioned Blogmas, and I immediately thought, “Now’s my chance.” I’ve wanted to write; I’ve wanted to blog. But for whatever reason, I always found an excuse to avoid the plunge.

What made all the difference was her saying, let me help you get started. The next day, before I even knew what was happening, she had signed me up.

Since then, I’ve had several friends who have supported this new venture, my friend B. Golden in particular. We talk on the phone every “Thursday,” but for the past six days, every day has been Thursday, and now she’s writing more.

My brother even started blogging again.

I’m reminded of the Christmas tree lighting ceremony at my school last Wednesday. Each student was given a candle, and oh how those flecks of fire trickled from person to person.

To close this post, I’d like to end with Marianne Williamson’s “Our Deepest Fear.” I hope you take time to reflect on her words and become conscious of your own light and your ability to ignite others.

Our Deepest Fear
By Marianne Williamson

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.

We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us;
It’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we’re liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

 

Blogmas Day 3: A poem

Happy day three of Blogmas everyone!

Here is a short poem I wrote this past summer. I hope you enjoy. Feel free to comment below.

His Christmas

She illuminated his home with
stringed bulbs of color,
silvery tinsel like carrot-crystals,
and pine sticky
on fingers.
But when she
died, the street
died. Cotton liquefied,
candy canes
crushed, penguins deflated.
Santa, who enduringly
birthed hope by
bellowing cheer,
filed for
unemployment.
All thawed, his
Merry.