A Woman trusting in her Transition!

Posted on November 16, 2011 by Pauline Haynes, One of Thousands of Life Coaches on Noomii.

I was thinking of the importance of words – what we say and what we don’t say. A lot of what we think we communicate clearly are in words, but there is another side to all of that. My thoughts can lead me to so many different places when I think in words. I meander like a brook, and come back to the bank and stumble over the – words.

When my children were in grade school, I would put notes in their lunch boxes. I would put notes in their books, under their pillows in all sorts of places. They loved those notes. They still smile at the memories.

For my daughter’s 17th birthday, I bought her a journal, and began with an inscription. Before long, the inscription had morphed into a dialogue…sort of a love story. I had used about one third of the pages in writing all the things I thought about her and what she means to me. Those words are still as meaningful to her now, as when they were first written.

About 12 years ago, my son decided to move to Europe to explore, do fencing and find out who he is – really. I would write him a letter every week. I think that process was as much for my sake as it was for his. I was missing him terribly, as he also was missing home. He told me that he papered his bedroom with my letters. He read and re-read them, over and over again. He claimed my words had a soothing effect on him.. He claimed I knew exactly the words he needed to hear as he went through the lonely and homesick days of his adventure. My words helped him to acclimate to the new culture, and the new him. Maybe that is simply a part of my being a mother. Sometimes there are some things we just know.

I get it that not everyone has the same fascination with notes as I do. I suspect that some of the men from my past may still have snippets of my sentimental and romantic musings. Those musings are a tangible evidence of us having shared some precious times together. I have the memories, and as the memories fade, the words can be a presence – a reminder of what was. Write more letters. Risk more. Be more open. Say what’s in your heart more.

Being reminded of what was, is not dwelling on the past. It is a way of recapturing beauty, honoring the passage of time and the people we have been lucky enough to have in our space, in our lives. I say lucky, because each encounter is for a reason, a purpose, an experience. An opportunity for growth.

When I write my blog posts, I have a few trusted women friends that I read it to before I submit it to the world. I share it with them because I respect heir hearts, their hearing, and their experiences to give me feedback that is honest and from the heart. Sometimes I change words or rearrange phrases, but the gist of all I write comes from somewhere deep or shallow inside of me.

Writing is not my craft. I am not schooled in its artistry, but I get by. I consider myself a communicator, and that is the place from which I play.

The following is a story about the power of our words and the impact it can have on others. Some years ago I was fortunate to be one of the broadcasters on KVMR Radio. I absolutely loved the idea of being able to create programs that would inform, inspire and uplift the listeners. Even when I fumbled and my engineering skills were way under par, I was on top of my content and my intent. I was aware of the perceived power, and the enormous responsibility in having control of the airwaves. See how words can take you away from the moment?

So, back to the the story. Long after I was no longer on the air, I bumped into a woman who said “Oh my god, I was just thinking about you the other day, and how you changed my life.” Now when someone makes such a claim, at least in my mind, I think of it as more than a little humorous, and over the top. It’s not that I always have people saying that to me. But, it has happened.

She was quite serious. I engaged the other side of my brain and respectfully listened to what she had to say. I hosted a show called “A Woman’s Place.” I would have listeners calling in, guest interviews on a number of topics that were pertinent to women locally, nationally and internationally. She claimed that she did not always understand or agree with some of the thoughts, ideas, or views expressed, but she was compelled to keep listening month after month. That show, became her anchor. Something that allowed her to dream. She eventually escaped.

She said my voice, my words, my passion gave her the courage to make the needed changes in her life. Because of something or some things she heard, she was able to move from an abusive, unfulfilled relationship. She divorced her husband. As a single mother, she was able to function without being dragged down. She had the courage. She made a choice. She took a stand, and followed with action. The divorce was, evidently, the right thing for her to do. She created the life she wanted. A life of peace, joy, harmony and prosperity for herself and her children. My hope is that all these things are still true for her.

Although her assertions were flattering, I take no credit. I am simply humbled. The truth is, I did not change her life. Something emerged through me that was a catalyst for her. She was really in the right place at the right time. She was connected to source. I was only the messenger. Her inner voice was calling her to a higher place. She listened, and had but one choice – to emerge into the beautiful butterfly that was locked in the cocoon of fear and dread. She followed her calling. She became free.

As I offer this gift of my words, I trust the portals of your interconnectivity is open to receive any gems that’s meant just for you.