21 Jun i am enough from Amy Lee Czadzeck
I’ve been writing to you for years. I have collected little reminders on yellow sticky note pads. They aren’t all of me. They are scraps of the day, scribbles, you may say. The notes were for you to see when you woke up in the morning, when you were in the grocery store, or when you needed to save a page in your book. Sometimes I was busy with a few things like reading a book, rocking a child, and making a meal and I had a creative thought that I rushed to get the silly thought down. Sometimes I was leisurely sitting there with nothing to do. The notes took me out of the moment and brought me back in. On a few sheets, I’ve doodled lotus flowers, the sun, the moon, and smiley faces. On a few sheets, I’ve drawn a face; maybe your face, maybe mine with shadows. These notes are not fancy yet they are important enough to show you because in review I have discovered the commonality; my hope.
And with you, my hope is worth sharing.
There are times when I want to escape my identity and find another one but without the fraudulent charges.
Search always for the scratch and sniff book with the little mice in the candy store.
My dream(s) is (are) changing.
Grace Power Wonder
I come home with so many treasures stuffed in my pockets. Today was a leaf, 2 pinecones, and a 50 cent mustache.
Page 51, 2nd paragraph
I want to claim something more. Or even better, I want to claim that I made a choice.
I wonder if my distant relatives lose as much as sleep as I do after spending the day with them.
Belonging and significance, that’s what I want to provide my children.
Permission Slip: Think of nothing and do nothing.
I can’t skip this part. The depression or the pain, which came first?
Put on a dress and make some pie.
The spider speaks. The spider wants me to write about the phlegm in my throat.
He’s always listening to you. Don’t pick a fight.
Buy anything GREEN looking in the Vegetable Section
Get Ice Cream Sundae Fixins
Remember to bring four dollars to the guy who sells bread from his car.
What direction do I want to go in?
I need to go into business of sending notes to friends that say, “What I meant to say…”
Haircut on Thursday 10 am
Cancel Dental Appointment.
Let them make up their own minds.
Call so and so and so so.
I am enough.
There are moments where I find these notes and remember how ordinary life is and yet how much it requires me to find an inner rock. I live in this space of loving nothing and everything. That space is I am enough. This expression may be the only thing that allows me to breathe. I need that breathing reminder. The notes are me breathing. There’s one more important thing that I don’t want to leave out. The people in my life. They allow me to practice this note taking and breathing. I am enough wonder of the strangers I meet. I am enough joy of my friends. I am enough grace of those loved ones who have passed. I am enough spirit of my Daddy. I am enough beauty of my Mother. I am enough storyteller of my two older sisters. I am enough power of my nieces. I am enough peace of my partner. I am enough freedom of my child. I am enough love of me. I am enough.
Amy Lee Czadzeck is a writer with a spirit as bright as the sun and hopes as full as the moon. She has acted as facilitator of health & peace through her practices of massage therapy, energy work, and coaching at The Growing Table. She is organically shifting towards quiet and meaningful work through writing about her experience of healing, being in nature, and being an artist/mother of a growing child. She believes writing is a tool towards healing. She would like to share gratitude to Tracey for showing her two years ago that she could begin to take the journey to write and discover her worth and to all the contributors of the continual discovery of “I am enough.” She welcomes you to her handcrafted stories, sight, and sense at her new site at Amy Lee Czadzeck.