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Writer's pictureLydia C

LIVE LIGHTly: not what I expected

As they say, "I'm doing a thing."


I'm writing a book. I'm on the wrap up chapter and sat with two writing buddies last Monday. I couldn't focus to save my life.


I kept circling around freedom. What it means. How it starts. How it plays out.


I think it's kind of like the Fourth of July.




The freedom started the day that we declared independence. But before that day, there was a huge amount of courage to be found and put to use. Just to declare freedom that day was a HUGE risk. But on that day, we tasted and saw freedom in our hearts. We were truly as free then as we are today.


Once they declared Freedom, it was all good right? Um. Nope. Then there was the battle. It wasn't pretty, but it was fought for freedom, that seed that was growing by the day. And then there was all the clean up. Freedom is messy in the getting. And then there were the memories and the shadows of how it used to be. The battle was won, but that was just the beginning really. Actually LIVING in freedom, learning to be free in relationship to others who didn't want you to be free - that's messy too.


But it was worth it.


There was a time when people fought for more than their personal choices. They had a glimpse of the future for others who they'd never meet, generations to come. But that's a whole different direction. Or is it?


What does this have to do with writing a book?


Well - the book is about getting set up to get set free to learn to live free. That's an awful sentence structurally, but I'm not changing it. In fact, I need to repeat it.


Getting set up


To get set free


To learn to live free


The book I'm trying to finish is about my journey into a divine set up. My process of getting to my own July 4th.


But the ending I'm now trying to write is a hard look at what might happen if this book actually gets read. It might mean that I'll have to care more openly about the freedom of others. When you do that, you get shot at. I don't know if I'm savvy enough to not get hit. I'm not the officer type. Is this a battle I'm ready to jump into?


And now I'm hedging.


I have a decision to make. Am I going to do this or not?


I'm counting the cost.


Just because a handful of people have said, "You need to write a book about this," doesn't make it my calling. It will cost me something. If I write it and no one reads it, I'll feel invisible. If I write it and lots of people read it, I'll feel exposed. I like my privacy. If Iots of people read it and it gets a lot of attention, I might feel overwhelmed and misunderstood. But if it keeps burning in my heart and I don't let it out, then I'll feel like a failure. And if I come to the end of my life and didn't do it, I'll feel regret.


No matter what, choices carry a cost. And not choosing is still a choice.


So what will I do?


I'll have to let you know later. I'm still weighing it all out.



Love,


Lydia





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