The memories of wandering through a farm have stayed with me. The images of the plant’s leaves created a lingering question of what defines us. As important as the legacy of what we produced is, I find myself looking beyond the results of my words and actions to what I hold within my heart. Results and outcomes tell part of the story, even as I know they are missing the heart of the story. The plan was a revelation. In her leaves, I rediscovered her story, the health of doing what she was always meant to do, and the legacy of what she gifted others. The essence is there, if I am willing to look beyond the colours and see what is inside.
The story of one’s life is written by one’s heart. There are many telltales for the story I write. Many are incredibly accurate. Each line in the story is an indicator. Some lead to accurate conclusions about the storyline and its direction. Others are misleading at best, at least to the casual observer. For the author, it is easy to get caught up in the results and outcomes linked to one’s story. One writer left us with the obvious observation and question: “This is bad luck, for sure – naked he came, naked he went. So what was the point of working for a salary of smoke?” (Ecclesiastes 5.16). Looking back, I now see that my story was never about working; it has always been about living.
The essence of living is found in one’s heart and its response to each step in the journey. With each moment, I find my opportunity for awareness, learning, and the potential to do something with what I know. My storyline is one of insight, action, and growth. The story between the lines is a reflection of my heart and soul. I am writing the words as expressions of my values, beliefs, and priorities. There are no mandates. I am the author giving others permission to influence and guide.
Today, my story is unfolding with each step.
