I’m pretty shy. I’d probably write a lot more of these posts if I wasn’t such a private person. I really like my time to myself. From the outside it may seem like I don’t do a lot. But my inner life is pretty strong and loud.
At times I wish I were more outgoing. I imagine I would have written and published a few more clutter busting books, and done more videos, and more talks. But that’s not my nature.
I feel like what I have produced is out there and has been helpful, based on the emails and letters I get from people. And also from people I meet in person. Those messages from others have made what I have done very rewarding. There’s nothing better than the feeling of having helped someone.
I’ve been feeling very introspective this week. Friday is my six-year double-lung transplant anniversary. I’ve been experiencing a great gratitude for being alive. And for the people who helped give me my second life. And for Tracy, the kid who died and donated his lungs to me. I never got to thank Tracy. I think about him sometimes. I imagine him standing and smiling. I’ve heard great things about him. He was a caring person and full of life. He passed the torch of life on to me.
I’ve come to realize that life itself is the main thing for me. Being alive. The life force. I often feel that I live in its great sea. It holds me aloft. Life buoys me whether I’m feeling sad or happy or lonely or angry or playful or tired. I think about that often. I see things come and go and come and go. Except life. Life is there and I bask in its Sun. It never denies me or makes me earn its love and attention.
It’s interesting to me that I’m writing these personal words to you. Like I said, I’m shy. But when it’s time to write, I type the words. I feel lucky to be a writer. I love words. I love to share them with you when I feel compelled.