I’ve asked the SOAR! Recipients to revisit the idea of Self Portraits.  We are now half way through the year, and I want them to take inventory of how their self portraits today differ from their self portraits in January.

As I approached my own Self Portrait, I realized how distinct this season of life is for me.  We’ve been home from Thailand/Cambodia for almost two months now.  I had been twittering about feeling tired and decided to go have another blood draw.  That ended up being a good thing because the Dengue may be tied to being anemic right now.  It seems that the process of moving past the Dengue Fever and all it’s physical and emotional impact is not over yet.  I am a work in progress–emotionally and physically.  No matter how much I’d like the progress to pick up speed, it is what it is.  And more than ever, it feels important to count every day as a small victory.

I am a work in progress, and my book projects remind me of this every day.

Book 1 is in the Design/Layout Rewrite phase.  I’ve officially started Book 2.  As I work through the content of both books, I’m amazed at how every phase of rewriting unveils something else to work on, something that could be even more refined, something that needs attention and was missed before.  It’s impossible to see all the work needed at once.  It’s impossible to write a final draft the first try.  This is one of the things I treasure most about writing; it can never be perfect in the first attempt.  Instead, it needs reworking and revisiting but the time invested only pays off.  I’ve got to start with a single draft and then build, rebuild, build new, tear down, rebuild, and build again.

My life sometimes feels like the cycle of a book.  Each chapter unfolding new adventures and scary unknowns, but every page at some point is revisited–contemplated–and then set to rest when the time is right.

If I was to take a Self Portrait that was an object, it would be this hill.

I have a routine since coming back from Thailand.  Every morning, I put my walking shoes on, get the dog leash out, and together, Rosie and I, climb this hill.  Before the Dengue Fever, I used to run up this hill and keep running for another 30 minutes.   Now, the goal is to practice this hill until I’m not out of breath any longer.  But it’s not just a physical goal, it’s also a mental exercise.

There are a handful of new ventures in our business these days.  Sometimes they feel like uphill climbs.  Truth be told, none of us have to do any climbing if we don’t want to.  I have to remind myself that these uphill climbs are my choice.  I choose the climb because I know there is a goal, a dream I’m aiming for.  Their is a height that I want to reach where I can leap and be able to SOAR!

I also need the daily, mental reminder that there is a bigger perspective in life than the hill I’m climbing.  There is a top.  There is a view that is so much larger than what I could see at the bottom.  Even half way up the hill, I can not see this big sky, the ever reaching clouds and shifting sea.

I have to get to the top to remind myself that the perspective to keep is the one from up top–so I can gain perspective on all the fears, unknowns, insecurities or challenges that surround me on the ground level.

I am a work in progress.  And sometimes the work feels defeating when I’m already out of breath and the top is still out of reach.  But other times, the work is incredibly rewarding.  I find myself laughing and celebrating the progress that I’ve reached today.

Yes, there will always be more to work on, to reexamine, rebuild, dismantle, adjust, refine, etc.  But today is in front of us.  Somehow we found the courage to get up this morning and attempt that hill one more time.  I know a lot of us want to be climbing it faster than we are.  But these Self Portraits have to stand for something more.  No matter how slow I climbed today, I still chose to climb.  And so did you.  And that is worth celebrating.

For inspiration, see My Self-Portrait with My Twelve-Year-Old Daughter.

xoxo,

Me Ra