May 16th -Meta, a day long thought
"Forgiveness or regret are the only choices we have." -Ron Palmer

Writing about writing is what I have been told the definition of meta is. I never knew that this electronic world would be so important to me. I never could have predicted that words out there in some space would mean so much.

My journal isn't just for me. It is for the world as a whole. I received a postage stamped letter from a reader that just astounds me. Here is a piece of it...

"You have given me many nights of sanity thanks to your journal. I would sit up reading you words until my eyes got so tired I could finally go to bed and sleep. Your journal has been my life vest. So please continue on knowing that you are truly touching other peoples lives by your writing your life for us to read. "

I never comprehended what I have given to you all until this letter was sent to me. I am thankful and amazed by these words.

Someone (who only knows me a little) told me the other day that my God has a plan for me. I have a spot in this world that is going to make an impact. Maybe it is only to keep writing. Maybe it is huge. I don't know what is in store for me, but I believe that person was right. My God has a plan for me otherwise I would be dead.

When I sit down and think of what gifts and talents I have been given I count this. I count the ability to read and put these words before you -before myself. I have always been able to write.

I don't look at my horrific past with hate anymore. Each terrible experience (even the sexual abuse and alcoholism) has made me who I am today. All of the pain has given me the ability to write. Everything that has happened to me makes me better instead of worse.

It is much easier to make it until tomorrow when you believe you have something important to do. Why on earth did my God spare me? I have no right to be alive as I see it. However, that God person thinks differently.

Sometimes I feel as insignificant as a teeny ant crawling across the lawn. My life is one of billions. My words and thoughts sometimes feel so small. They really aren't are they? I have formed friendships and love and hope for both myself and the people who manage to trip onto this web space.

Maybe the world the universe and everything ( If you read Douglas Adams you will get a giggle out of that -I wish I knew 42 : ) is smaller than we could ever expect. Maybe I am not a teeny ant crawling around doing nothing. Maybe what I have to give is bigger than I can dream of.

I said so many times before that I am a mother, daughter, wife, sister, aunt, but I still don't know who I am. Does anyone? Are we all the same even if it is just a tiny piece? Are we all made from the same carbon and thoughts?

Is my writing important to the world because we are all the same? Are these simple words here significant because you and I are alike if only in a small way?

In the beginning I called my electronic space Water the Flowers. Maybe postcards won't come back. Maybe I have to go back to the start. Water the Flowers Dear Brittly. Take care of what my God has given me. Even if it is only a daily watering. Even if it is small I need to take care of the little things.

Water the Flowers. Take care of the primary essential needs first. Give yourself the simplicity that life requires before you dive into the pond.

Maybe 'Water the Flowers' makes more sense than all of the things I have written.

Yours, Brittly